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playboysaleen · 23 days ago

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Through Ash and Iron (6)

Jinx x Reader x Caitlyn

Summary: Through Ash and Iron plunges you into the heart of Piltover’s gritty streets, where you’ve always felt the weight of your family’s failures. Rejected from the Junior Enforcer Program, your anger burns brighter than ever—until one fateful punch changes everything. The eyes of Piltover’s elite may look down on you, but it’s the wild eyes of Jinx that truly see you. She’s chaos personified, and you’re drawn to the destruction she promises. But that’s not all. Caitlyn Kiramman, a poised enforcer with a soft spot for rebels like you, offers you a chance to rewrite your future—if you can control the rage you can’t seem to escape.Torn between the order Caitlyn represents and the dangerous freedom Jinx offers, you stand at the crossroads of two worlds. As your power grows, so does the tension between these two women. One promises a chance at belonging, while the other ignites a fire you didn’t know you had. But the choices you make will change everything—not just for you, but for both cities teetering on the edge of war. Who will you choose? And how much of yourself will you lose along the way?

Warnings: Violence duh, gay panic(lol), cursing, all that jazz (whatever you seen in Arcane is what you gon see here)This is also a slight AU.(She/her)

Word Count: 6.7k

A/n: I slacked last night to post this chap, ya girl was tired lol. f this 9-5 ON A SUNDAY- anyways yall enjoy lol

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The hum of the Undercity stretched below you as you sat perched on the edge of an old rooftop, the air thick with the scent of metal, oil, and faint traces of decay. The flickering neon signs in the distance cast an eerie glow across your features as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. The city buzzed with life, chaotic and unyielding, but up here, it felt strangely quiet.

“Brooding already?” Jinx’s familiar voice broke the silence.

You turned your head slightly to see her slinking toward you, her wild hair catching the light like a chaotic halo. She plopped down next to you with her signature reckless ease, her legs swinging freely over the edge as if she didn’t have a care in the world.

“I don’t brood,” you shot back with a smirk. “You’re confusing me with Vi.”

Jinx snorted. “Vi’s brooding is all fists and scowls. You? You’re more of a ‘mysterious loner with a tragic backstory’ kind of brooding. Very cinematic.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Yeah? And what’s your deal? Crazed powder monkey with a flair for dramatics?”

She gasped, clutching her chest in mock offense. “Excuse me, but I prefer the term artistic mastermind.”

“Sure,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “That’s definitely what people call you.”

The banter continued, sharp and fast, each quip met with equal intensity. But then, amidst the teasing, Jinx’s voice softened just slightly. “I missed this.”

You glanced at her, your smirk fading into something gentler. “Missed what? My dazzling wit?”

“Maybe,” she said with a sly grin, but her eyes betrayed her vulnerability. “Missed you.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, the weight of everything you both had been through pressed down like a storm cloud. Without thinking, you reached out and took her hand, your thumb brushing over her scarred knuckles.

Jinx’s gaze dropped to your arm, her sharp eyes catching the faint lines of ink peeking from under your sleeve. “What’s with all these tattoos, anyway?” she asked, tilting her head. “You never told me.”

You hesitated for a moment, the question digging up memories you preferred to keep buried. But Jinx’s curious stare was relentless. “They’re… a map,” you admitted finally. “A map my so-called family gave me. They told me it would lead me to something important—something I needed to find to figure out who I was. But it’s from my past, and I haven’t looked at it in years.”

Her interest piqued, Jinx leaned closer. “A map, huh? Lemme see more of it.”

Before you could protest, she tugged at the hem of your shirt, lifting it enough to reveal the intricate network of lines and symbols inked across your chest and stomach. The tattoos were stark against your skin, a labyrinth of pathways and cryptic markings.

Jinx’s fingers hovered above the lines before tracing them lightly, her touch featherlight. “This… this is insane,” she murmured, her usual chaotic energy replaced by quiet fascination. Her fingers stopped at a particular symbol etched near your ribs.

“Wait a second.” Her voice grew sharper, her finger tapping the symbol. “This. I’ve seen this before.”

You glanced down. “What about it?”

“It’s Silco’s symbol,” she said, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and unease. “How the hell do you have this?”

You frowned, shaking your head. “I don’t know. It’s just part of the map. I never understood half of what these marks mean.”

Jinx stared at the symbol for a moment longer before her fingers resumed their path, tracing the lines of ink as if trying to decode you. Her touch lingered, and her voice softened again. “You know, when I was a kid… I used to dream about someone like you.”

Her confession caught you off guard. “Someone like me?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice distant, almost wistful. “Someone who could pull me out of the mess I was in. Someone strong, who’d see me for who I am and not some broken thing. Someone who could…” She trailed off, her eyes meeting yours. “Give me the life I always wanted but could never have.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you, and without thinking, you leaned closer. “And now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips curled into a faint smile. “Now I’ve got you. So, I guess… dream fulfilled.”

The warmth in her eyes pulled you in, and before you could stop yourself, you closed the distance, your lips pressing against hers. The kiss was slow, tender, and filled with all the unspoken things you’d been too afraid to say.

Jinx melted into you, her hands gripping your shoulders as if anchoring herself to reality. And for a moment, everything—the chaos, the pain, the uncertainty—faded away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet glow of the Undercity.

Caitlyn sat at her desk, a chaotic array of maps, reports, and scattered photographs spread across the once-pristine surface. Her office, once a model of order and discipline, now reflected the turmoil in her heart. The faint hum of Piltover’s cityscape filtered through the window as she poured over the last known locations associated with you. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, but she refused to stop. Not until she had something solid to go on.

“Commander Kiramman, there’s… not much to go on here,” the enforcer standing before her said hesitantly, his voice grating against her frayed nerves. “The reports from the Undercity are unreliable. And the last sighting was weeks ago.”

“That’s unacceptable!” Caitlyn snapped, slamming her hand down on the desk. The officer flinched at her sudden outburst. “I don’t care if the information is unreliable. You are reliable, aren’t you? Then do your job. You find her.”

The enforcer opened his mouth as if to protest, but the icy fire in Caitlyn’s eyes silenced him. “This isn’t just another case,” she continued, her voice low but seething with urgency. “I don’t want excuses—I want results. She’s alive, and I need to find her before someone else does.”

The officer nodded nervously and backed out of the room, leaving Caitlyn alone with her thoughts. She leaned back in her chair, running a hand over her face as a wave of emotion washed over her. She couldn’t shake the guilt, the memories of what she had done to you.

For weeks, Caitlyn had been consumed by a singular need to find you—not to capture you, not to punish you, but to make things right. Now that she knew the truth, that Ambessa had fed her lies and manipulated her into believing you were responsible for her mother’s death, the weight of her actions was unbearable. She had hurt you in ways she couldn’t take back, and yet, she couldn’t let go of the feelings she still carried for you.

She cared for you. Loved you, even. That much she couldn’t deny anymore.

You had always been a mystery, but there was something about you that drew her in—your strength, your resolve, the quiet way you carried the scars of your past. And now, knowing you had been innocent all along, those feelings burned even brighter, mixed with an aching need to atone.

She stood abruptly, her decision made. Grabbing her coat, she strode out of the office and made her way to the grand steps of Piltover Tower. By the time she reached the top, a crowd of enforcers had gathered below, their curious murmurs filling the air. Caitlyn stood tall, her sharp gaze scanning the assembled troops as she prepared to address them.

“This city,” she began, her voice steady but firm, “has been through hell. We’ve lost good people—our families, our friends. And in the midst of that pain, we’ve made mistakes. I’ve made mistakes.”

The enforcers exchanged uneasy glances as Caitlyn’s words hung in the air.

“I’ve come to realize that some of the choices we’ve made, some of the people we’ve blamed, were wrong. There’s someone out there—a person who was wronged by this city, by me. And now, they are in danger.”

She took a deep breath, her voice softening as her eyes drifted to the horizon. “Y/n isn’t a threat to us. She never was. And I won’t let Piltover’s mistakes take her away from me again.”

The crowd murmured, confused but attentive.

“I’m ordering a citywide search,” Caitlyn continued, her voice hardening with resolve. “Every corner of Piltover and the Undercity will be searched. I don’t care how long it takes—we will find her. And she is to be brought back alive.”

Her last word rang out like a commandment, silencing any doubts among the ranks.

“There’s another threat,” she added, her expression darkening. “Someone is targeting her—someone who wants to use her for their own gain. We cannot allow that to happen. I won’t allow it.”

Her gaze swept over the crowd, and for the first time in weeks, Caitlyn felt a sliver of clarity amid the chaos. She turned sharply, walking back into the tower, her mind already racing with plans.

This wasn’t just about making amends or clearing your name. It was about protecting you, saving you from the same forces that had taken so much from her. Because deep down, Caitlyn knew the truth: she still loved you, and she wasn’t ready to lose you again.

The streets of the Undercity buzzed with the usual mix of life and chaos as you walked alongside Sevika. She lit a cigar as the two of you moved through the crowd, your hood pulled low to avoid unnecessary attention. It was a routine now—your almost daily rounds to reinforce your presence. Let the people see you, remind them that you weren’t a ghost, that the streets still had a protector, even if it wasn’t the one they expected.

“I don’t get why you bother with all this,” Sevika muttered, exhaling a thick plume of smoke. “Your face is plastered on every corner. Pretty sure they know you’re alive.”

You shrugged, adjusting the bag slung over your shoulder. “Gotta stay ahead of the rumors, Sev. Besides, it’s not all for appearances.”

“Right.” Her smirk was as dry as the tone in her voice. “Totally not about that dish Jinx keeps whining about or those goggles you were ogling for the kid.”

You shot her a look, but it was playful. “She’s been craving it for days. And Isha… she’s been working so hard on her little machines. She deserves something nice.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, taking another puff. “You’re soft, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you admitted with a small smile. “But they make it easy.”

Her expression softened briefly, but then she leaned in, her tone turning teasing. “So, you and Jinx, huh? Gonna make it official or keep tiptoeing around each other?”

You scoffed, the tips of your ears burning. “I don’t even know what we are. But… it’s something. She’s something.” You hesitated, your voice dropping as the words spilled out before you could stop them. “They both are. Isha and Jinx, they make me feel… like I belong. Like I finally have something worth holding onto.”

Sevika’s teasing grin faltered, her usual tough exterior replaced with something quieter, almost understanding. “Yeah, well… don’t screw it up.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Her mood shifted abruptly, her eyes narrowing. “Speaking of screwing things up… you know Caitlyn’s been sniffing around, right?”

That caught your attention. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen her,” Sevika said, her tone casual but her gaze sharp. “Gathering troops, barking orders. She’s definitely on a mission, and I’m guessing it’s to find you. Word’s out, Spark. She knows you’re alive.”

You frowned, your mind flickering to Caitlyn and the weight of your history with her. But before you could dwell too much, you changed the subject, unwilling to let the conversation linger there. “What about you, Sev? When are you gonna stop babysitting me and get yourself a love life?”

She barked a laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, because brooding loners with bionic arms are a hot commodity these days.”

“Hey, I’m proof it works.”

Sevika rolled her eyes, shoving your shoulder lightly. “Shut up and go get those goggles, sap.”

The teasing put a smile on your face as you ducked into a dimly lit shop tucked into the corner of the street. The air was thick with grease and the metallic tang of machinery. Rows of mismatched tools, gadgets, and gear lined the shelves, but it was the sleek pair of goggles hanging near the back that caught your eye. You reached out for them, turning them over in your hands, when a voice from the shadows made you freeze.

“Well, well… if it isn’t the lost one.”

The voice was low, measured, and carried an unsettling familiarity. You turned slowly, your eyes locking onto a tall, gaunt man stepping out from the shadows. His face was pale, his sharp features shadowed by a hood, and his eyes gleamed with a cold intelligence.

“Singed,” you said cautiously, your grip tightening on the goggles.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he said, his tone almost amused. His gaze flicked over you, lingering like he was studying a specimen under glass. “But it’s me who knows you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

“Don’t you?” His lips curved into a thin, cruel smile. “Oh, you’ve forgotten. But that’s to be expected, isn’t it? The past buried so deep, you don’t even recognize the name you were given.”

You narrowed your eyes, but before you could speak, he said it—a name you hadn’t heard with that voice since you were a child. The sound of his tone–it sent a jolt through you, like a trigger and for a brief moment, your vision blurred.

The purple flash. It came unbidden, your body reacting to the name like a spark to a fuse. Your heart raced as you blinked, forcing yourself back to clarity, but Singed had already noticed.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, his smile widening. “It’s still in you. Buried, yes, but not gone. I was right to be patient.”

“What are you talking about?” you demanded, but your voice wavered.

“Oh, you’ll understand soon enough,” he said cryptically, his words slipping into a language you couldn’t place. The sound of it was almost hypnotic, a strange rhythm that made your head swim and your body feel weightless.

You stumbled back a step, gripping the counter for support, your eyes unfocused. The world around you felt hollow, distant, as his voice echoed in your mind.

“Don’t worry,” Singed said, his tone almost mocking. “I’ll find you again. When the time is right.”

And just like that, he was gone, slipping back into the shadows as if he had never been there at all. You stood there for a moment, your breath shallow, your mind racing with questions you couldn’t answer.

The lair was dimly lit, the hum of machinery in the background blending with the occasional clink of metal tools on the workbench. You sat on a battered old chair in the corner, your hands clasped tightly, your elbows resting on your knees. It had been hours since you’d spoken. Since you’d even moved.

Your reflection in a nearby cracked mirror caught your eye. You barely recognized yourself. The sharp confidence you once carried felt dulled, replaced by something hollow, something unfamiliar.

His voice. That name.

“Spark.”

The word echoed in your mind like a haunting melody. It wasn’t just the name—it was the way he said it, the power it held over you. Your fingers twitched as you recalled how your body had responded against your will. A primal reaction you couldn’t control, one that made your stomach churn with disgust.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” you muttered under your breath, your voice hoarse.

Jinx’s light steps barely registered until she plopped down on the floor beside you, cross-legged and watching you closely. Her usual manic energy was subdued, replaced by something softer, more curious.

“Alright, what’s eating you, Big Shot?” she asked, tilting her head. “You’ve been sitting there looking like someone stole your favorite gun.”

You glanced at her, your jaw tightening. You wanted to brush it off, but the weight of the encounter was too much to carry alone.

“Do you know someone named Singed?” you asked, your voice low and strained.

Her expression shifted immediately, her playful smirk vanishing. “Yeah… I know him. He worked with Silco back in the day. Creepy guy. Always muttering, always experimenting. Why?”

You took a deep breath, your hands trembling slightly. “I ran into him earlier. He… he called me by that name, Jinx. A voice I haven’t heard since I was a kid.”

“What name?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Spark,” you whispered, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. “And when he said it… it was like… like I wasn’t in control anymore. Like I had to listen.”

Jinx’s expression darkened. “What do you mean ‘had to listen’?”

You shook your head, struggling to find the words. “It was like I wasn’t myself. My body just… responded. I felt feral, like there was something buried in me that he was pulling out. I wanted to fight it, but I couldn’t. I felt… hopeless. Submissive.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Jinx’s fingers tapped against her knee, her gaze fixed on you but distant, as if she were piecing things together.

“I don’t like this,” she finally said. “I don’t like any of this.”

“Neither do I,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “I need help, Jinx. I need to figure out what’s happening to me, why I reacted like that. And I don’t think I can do it on my own.”

Jinx hesitated, biting her lip. You could see the conflict in her eyes. She hated the idea of you being vulnerable, hated the thought of you needing anyone but her. But she wasn’t blind to the truth.

“You’re saying this is bigger than the Undercity,” she said quietly.

You nodded. “I think it is.”

She ran a hand through her hair, groaning in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but… you’re right. If Singed is messing with you, and he’s tied to whatever happened to you as a kid, we need someone who knows how to deal with him. Someone with resources.”

Your heart sank as you caught on to where she was going. “Jinx—”

“It has to be Caitlyn,” she interrupted, her tone firm despite the reluctance in her eyes. “She’s the only one who can help you figure this out. I hate it, but if it’s between that and losing you to whatever freaky science Singed is pulling, then I’ll deal with it.”

You looked at her, surprised by the resolve in her voice. Her loyalty was fierce, but this level of sacrifice was new, even for her.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, searching her face.

“No,” she admitted with a wry smile, “but I’m sure about you. If Caitlyn’s what it takes to keep you safe, then fine. But I’m not gonna let her take you without a fight. Got it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, the weight on your chest lifting slightly. “Got it.”

She reached over, taking your hand in hers. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t care how many towers we have to burn down. You’re not going through this alone.”

Her words settled deep in your heart, and for the first time since the encounter with Singed, you felt a flicker of hope.

Caitlyn’s quarters were dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting long shadows across the room. It was eerily quiet, save for the occasional sound of her shuffling papers or the creak of her chair. You stood in the shadows, watching her as she slumped at her desk, her head resting in her hands.

Her once pristine space was unrecognizable. Papers were scattered everywhere, drawers left half-open, and an empty teacup sat forgotten on the edge of the desk. She exhaled deeply, her body trembling as she fought back tears. But eventually, the dam broke.

“I hate this,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice shaky. “I hate how much I care. How much I miss you. And you’re probably out there hating me after everything I did to you.”

You shifted in the shadows, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut.

“I trusted you. I loved you. Still love you, even though I shouldn’t.” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her hands to her face. “Even if you don’t love me back… I can’t stop. I can’t let go of you.”

You clenched your fists, emotions swirling inside you. You felt deeply for Caitlyn, more than you were ready to admit, but now wasn’t the time to explore those feelings. There was too much at stake, too many questions that needed answers.

Still, seeing her like this broke something in you.

Leaning against the doorframe, you spoke lightly, trying to mask the weight in your chest. “You know, your security’s terrible. Anyone could just waltz in here.”

Caitlyn froze, her tear-streaked face snapping toward the sound of your voice. Her wide, disbelieving eyes found you as you stepped forward, your lips quirking in a teasing smile.

“Hello, Commander,” you said softly, the playfulness in your tone betraying the tension in your heart.

She didn’t hesitate. Caitlyn launched herself out of her chair, her boots thudding against the floor as she closed the distance between you. You barely managed to catch her as she threw her arms around your neck, pulling you into a desperate embrace.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice muffled against your shoulder. Then, louder, as if saying it would make it real: “You’re here!”

Her hands found your face, her thumbs brushing against your jaw as she held you at arm’s length to look at you. Her fingers were trembling, her breath hitching. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought I… I’m so sorry. For everything. For hurting you. For not trusting you. I’ve missed you so much.”

You let her hold your face, her warmth grounding you in the moment. “I’m here now,” you said softly, your hands resting on her waist. “But I need your help, Cait. I really need your help.”

She blinked, her tears slowing as she searched your face. “Anything,” she said quickly. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Just tell me.”

You stepped back, reluctantly breaking her hold, and removed your coat. Then, with a steadying breath, you lifted your shirt over your head, exposing the tattoos that snaked across your torso.

Her eyes widened, her gaze tracing the intricate lines and symbols etched into your skin. She reached out instinctively, her fingers hovering over one of the symbols near your ribs.

“These…” she whispered. “You’ve never explained them to me before.”

“They’re a map,” you said, your voice low. “My so-called family gave them to me when I was a child. I didn’t understand what they meant back then, but… Singed does. He called me by a name, Caitlyn. ‘Spark.’ And when he said it, I wasn’t… myself anymore.”

Her fingers brushed against one of the symbols, and you shivered at the contact. “He did something to you?” she asked, her voice tinged with anger.

You nodded. “I don’t know how or why, but it’s like… he has some kind of control over me. I need to understand what these tattoos mean, what he’s after. And I need you to help me find out.”

Caitlyn’s eyes softened as she looked up at you, her hands still tracing the lines of your tattoos. “We’ll figure it out,” she said firmly. “I’ll do everything I can to get you through this. You’re not alone.”

She pulled you into a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around you. For a moment, you let yourself sink into her embrace, her warmth chasing away the lingering cold left by Singed’s voice.

You held her close, your cheek resting against her hair. “Thank you, Cait.”

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at you, her blue eyes filled with determination. “Whatever it takes,” she promised.

You nodded, a small flicker of hope igniting in your chest. For the first time in days, you felt like you had a chance to take control of your fate.

The dim glow of the desk lamp illuminated the worn records of Silco’s operations scattered before you. You sat hunched over, elbows propped on the table, flipping through the faded pages. Caitlyn had been quiet for some time now, seated across the room with her own stack of documents, but you felt her gaze lingering.

You glanced up, catching her staring. She didn’t look away.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at your lips.

Caitlyn blinked as if pulled from a trance. “No, I just…” She trailed off, setting her papers down and folding her hands in her lap. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “You’ve changed me.”

Her words caught you off guard. You tilted your head, waiting for her to elaborate.

“I mean, the way I see the world,” she continued, her voice soft but steady. “I used to think everything was so black and white. Good and bad. Piltover and the Undercity. But you… you made me see the shades of gray. The hope. The humanity I ignored in the people I was supposed to protect.”

Her blue eyes softened as they met yours, and something in her expression made your chest tighten. You tried to brush it off, turning your attention back to the records in front of you, but her voice drew you in again.

“You gave me hope,” she admitted. “You made me believe things could be better, even when I was at my lowest.”

You were about to respond when you realized she wasn’t across from you anymore. Somehow, she was beside you, her presence warm and steady. Her fingers brushed against your arm, and your breath hitched.

You cleared your throat, trying to break the moment. “Cait, I…” you hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I’m seeing Jinx. And… I have feelings for her.”

Caitlyn froze for a second, then nodded, her expression unreadable. “I know,” she said quietly. “And I understand. I’m not trying to come between you two.” She looked down at her hands, her fingers fidgeting slightly. “But I need you to know how I feel. How much you mean to me.”

Her voice wavered, and before you could react, her hands were on your face, her touch gentle but firm. You froze, your heart pounding as her gaze locked with yours.

“Cait…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay on task,” you added quickly, trying to redirect the moment. “We need to focus on what Singed is planning.”

Caitlyn sighed, her hands falling away as she pulled back slightly. “You’re right,” she said, though her eyes lingered on you a moment longer. Then, as if something clicked, her gaze sharpened, and she leaned closer again, her eyes catching on the faint symbol etched onto the side of your neck.

“What’s this?” she asked, her fingers brushing lightly over the mark.

You frowned. “It’s part of the map. Why?”

Caitlyn stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor as she crossed the room. She rifled through a stack of papers, muttering to herself until she pulled out a crumpled sheet. Her eyes darted between the paper and your neck, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“This symbol,” she said, holding the paper up for you to see. “It’s tied to Hextech. There’s someone who might be able to help us. They’ve worked on experimental tech, mapping neural pathways, and… well, they might know how to decipher this.”

You stared at the paper, the symbol on it eerily similar to the one on your skin. Your fingers brushed over the mark on your neck as unease and curiosity warred within you.

“Who are we talking about?” you asked, your voice steady despite the knot forming in your stomach.

Caitlyn looked at you, her resolve clear. “Heimerdinger,” she said. “If anyone can help us, it’s him.”

The faint, persistent hum of that voice had been tormenting you all evening, like a needle threading through the fabric of your thoughts. You tried to ignore it, to push it back where it belonged, but its grip only tightened.

The teacup slipped from your trembling hands and shattered against the floor, porcelain shards scattering like stars across the wooden boards. Your knees buckled, your hands flying to your head as a scream tore loose from your throat—a sound that was raw, primal, and animalistic.

Your vision spun, flashes of fragmented memories—or perhaps illusions—assaulting you. Faces you didn’t recognize, voices layered over each other in chaos, the faint glow of a strange symbol seared into your mind. And the voice. That commanding, icy voice calling you by a name you hadn’t heard in decades.

“Spark,” it whispered. It echoed, again and again, rattling inside your skull.

“Y/n!” Caitlyn’s voice cut through the haze. Her footsteps were quick as she rushed to your side, dropping to her knees beside you. “What’s wrong? What’s happening?”

You couldn’t answer her. You couldn’t see her. Your eyes were wide, flickering between their natural gray and an unnatural, glowing purple. Caitlyn froze, her hands hesitating in midair as your gaze snapped toward her.

Her breath caught. “Your eyes…” she whispered, fear lacing her voice.

Your breath was ragged, shallow, as if something deep and primal was clawing to the surface. The world blurred, your senses heightening in unnatural ways—every sound sharp, every scent piercing. You were becoming something unrecognizable, something feral.

Through sheer will, you found a sliver of control. With trembling hands, you fumbled into your pocket and pulled out the emergency flare Jinx had given you. Your hands shook as you thrust it toward Caitlyn, your voice a low, broken rasp.

“Go,” you managed.

She stared at you, stunned for a moment, before the severity of the situation sank in. Without hesitation, Caitlyn grabbed the flare and sprinted to the nearest rooftop. The night swallowed her footsteps, and moments later, a sharp hiss filled the air as the flare ignited.

The smoke rose thick and red, a stark beacon against the starless sky.

Jinx sat at her workbench, goggles perched on her forehead as she tinkered with a delicate trinket. She worked with an uncharacteristic focus, her tools clicking against the small device. A faint smirk played on her lips as she muttered to herself, occasionally shooting Isha a glance.

Isha sat nearby, her small frame rigid and tense, her wide eyes darting between Jinx and the object in her hands. The girl’s expression said everything: curiosity, apprehension, and admiration, all swirling together.

Jinx noticed the look and wagged her finger, a teasing grin curling her lips. “This little beauty? It’s not gonna bite, kid. Unless I screw up. Then…well…” She mimicked an explosion with her hands, laughing as Isha’s eyes widened further.

Isha’s head snapped up, though, her gaze fixed on the window. Her lips parted slightly, her brows knitting together in concern.

“What is it, gremlin?” Jinx asked, not bothering to look up. “I swear if it’s another—”

Her voice died as her eyes followed Isha’s line of sight. The flare burned bright in the sky, its red smoke twisting like a serpent against the black.

Jinx froze. The world seemed to stop around her. Her breathing quickened, her pulse pounding in her ears. Without a word, she sprang to her feet, her stool clattering to the ground.

Her workbench became a blur of movement as she scrambled to grab her weapons, tools, and anything she might need. Every motion was frantic, precise, desperate.

Sevika was making her way to Jinx’s lair when the chaos hit. The red smoke was unmistakable, its ominous glow visible even through the smog of the Undercity. She turned the corner just as Jinx barreled into her, nearly knocking them both over.

“What the hell—” Sevika began, but Jinx’s hand gripped her collar before she could finish.

“It’s Spark,” Jinx blurted, her voice unsteady, her eyes wide and wild. She didn’t need to explain further; the desperation in her tone said it all.

Sevika hesitated for only a heartbeat before she nodded. Her hand moved instinctively to her weapon, her expression hardening.

“Let’s go,” she said, and the two of them took off toward the flare, their footsteps echoing through the labyrinth of the Undercity. Neither of them spoke, their shared urgency driving them forward into the unknown.

The room felt impossibly small as you clawed at your mind for control. Your breaths were shallow and ragged, each inhale jagged like broken glass scraping your lungs. The voices—taunting, commanding, relentless—coiled around your thoughts like venomous snakes.

The table in front of you cracked under your tightening grip. Your strength betrayed you as it splintered and gave way, collapsing in two with a deafening crash. Your hoarse scream tore through the room, raw and primal, echoing against the walls.

You stumbled to your feet, your body swaying like a marionette with severed strings, and found your way to Caitlyn’s bathroom. The tile felt icy under your bare feet, but you didn’t notice. Your trembling fingers twisted the faucet handle, and steaming hot water roared from the showerhead. Without hesitation, you stepped under the cascade, letting the searing heat soak into your skin.

The world blurred as the water streamed over you. Memories began to rise, vivid and haunting, like waves crashing against the walls of your mind.

You were small again, no more than a child. The bridge stretched before you, cracked and broken, its foundation trembling with each explosion that rocked the air. Smoke choked the sky, and screams pierced your ears.

A man knelt in front of you, his face obscured by the haze, his voice calm despite the chaos around you.

“Sparky,” he said, his hands cupping your tear-streaked cheeks. His tone was warm, protective, but tinged with desperation. “Listen to me. You’re strong. Stronger than you think. But you have to go. Run.”

“I don’t want to leave you!” you cried, clutching at his arms.

He smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ll find you. I promise. I love you, kid. Never forget that.”

Another explosion roared behind him, the shockwave forcing him to let you go. His body shielded you from the debris, but the force sent you stumbling backward.

“Go!” he shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the chaos.

You turned and ran, your legs heavy with fear. The bridge groaned beneath your feet as more explosions rattled its structure. Then, the sound of splintering metal tore through the air, and the ground vanished beneath you.

You screamed as you fell, the world spinning into a blur of smoke and sky. The man’s distant cry of anguish echoed after you.

The memory collided with the present as your scream ripped from your throat once again. You stumbled back against the shower wall, the water now unbearably hot, but you didn’t care. Your hands gripped your head, nails digging into your scalp as you slid down to the floor of the shower.

Jinx burst into Caitlyn’s residence, her face flushed with urgency. Her mismatched eyes darted around until they locked onto Caitlyn, who had already armed herself and was braced for confrontation.

For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension. Caitlyn’s sharp gaze met Jinx’s defiant one, both women silently acknowledging what neither wanted to say aloud: they both loved you, and they both knew it.

Jinx clenched her fists but broke the silence first. “She’s in trouble. You know it, and so do I.” Her voice was steady, but there was a crack in her tone, a vulnerability she rarely allowed.

Caitlyn nodded reluctantly, her grip on her weapon loosening. “I know.”

Sevika, leaning against the wall, smirked. “Well, isn’t this cozy? Two sides of a war teaming up over a girl. Feels like I’m stuck in a bad romance novel.”

Neither Jinx nor Caitlyn acknowledged her quip, but they both shot her sharp looks before heading down the hallway.

As they approached the bathroom, Caitlyn noticed the steam curling out from under the door. Her chest tightened.

“Stay behind me,” she said firmly, motioning for Jinx to wait.

But Jinx ignored her, shoving past and throwing the door open.

The sight that met them was chilling. You lay slumped in the shower, the hot water pouring relentlessly over your face and body. Your skin was pale, your lips parted as shallow breaths escaped you.

Jinx was the first to move, skidding to her knees beside you. “Hey! Come on, don’t do this to me now!” Her voice cracked as she shook your shoulders gently.

Caitlyn followed, her heart pounding in her chest. She crouched next to you, her hands trembling as she reached for your face. The heat of your skin against her palm was alarming.

Your eyes fluttered open, but they weren’t the gray she knew. They glowed an unnatural purple, their intensity sending a shiver down her spine.

“Y/n?” Caitlyn whispered, her voice barely audible.

You stared at her blankly, as if you didn’t recognize her. Then your lips parted, and a guttural growl escaped, low and feral.

Caitlyn turned to Jinx, her expression grave. “I need to detain her. For everyone’s safety.”

Jinx bristled, her hand already reaching for her pistol. “The hell you will!”

“She’s not herself!” Caitlyn snapped.

“Like I care!” Jinx yelled back, her voice breaking.

Sevika lingered in the doorway, her expression unreadable. “Oh, this is gonna end well,” she muttered under her breath.

The tension in the bathroom was suffocating, Jinx and Caitlyn standing inches apart, their heated argument escalating.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jinx hissed, her voice sharp. “She’s not some wild animal to be locked up in your tower like a damn trophy!”

“She’s a danger to everyone, Jinx!” Caitlyn fired back, her tone equally biting. “If we don’t control this, people will die. You can’t just ignore that because you—”

“Because I what?” Jinx interrupted, stepping closer, her mismatched eyes blazing. “Because I love her? Like you don’t?”

Sevika, leaning against the doorframe, let out a frustrated growl. She’d been watching you the entire time, noting the way your body tensed and twitched, your breath ragged, your purple eyes flickering faintly as if battling something unseen.

They didn’t notice the moment you stirred, your body beginning to rise from where you lay. Sevika did.

“Enough!” she barked, stepping forward just as you fully began to sit up, your glowing purple eyes locking onto the nearest target. With a single motion, Sevika’s mechanical fist slammed into your temple.

The metallic sound of the impact echoed in the room as you slumped forward, unconscious.

“What the hell, Sevika?!” Jinx shouted, rushing toward you.

Caitlyn froze, her face pale as she watched Sevika lower her arm, her expression dark.

Sevika turned on them, her voice sharp and unwavering. “You two were so busy fighting over who loves her more that you didn’t even notice she was about to tear both your throats out.” Her voice cracked slightly as she muttered, “And then Isha would be alone.”

Jinx’s mouth opened to argue, but nothing came out. Caitlyn lowered her gaze, guilt washing over her.

“You think this is a game?” Sevika snapped, her glare shifting between them. “You think any of this is about your feelings? It’s not. If she goes feral again, it won’t matter who she loves or who loves her back—none of us will make it out alive.”

Caitlyn stepped forward, composing herself. “We need to detain her. Somewhere safe.”

“Not the tower,” Jinx said immediately, her tone defensive.

Caitlyn frowned. “Jinx—”

“She’s not going there,” Jinx growled. “Ambessa’s there. You think I trust her anywhere near Spark?”

Caitlyn hesitated but relented with a nod. “Fine. Somewhere secluded.”

Sevika sighed heavily, bending down to lift your unconscious body over her shoulder like a sack of flour. “Let’s move. We’ll figure this out on the way.”

_________________

Well...

#wlw #fanfiction #book #lgbtq #love #jinx arcane #jinx #jinx x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn arcane #caitlyn #sevika #arcane netflix

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holylulusworld · 1 year ago

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Indecent Proposal (1)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Rating: Mature

Square filled for @stuckybingo Round 5: free space - mafia au

Square filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Free Space

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of illegal activities/mafia business/murder, strong reader, mentions of breeding/surrogate, wish for children, shady deals, shitty boyfriend, reader doesn't take shit from no one, tension, sexy mobsters

Words: 1,5k

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Babe, how do I look?” Your boyfriend asks, almost stumbling over his words as the men he was hoping to meet at the fancy party walk inside the room.

Well, they don’t walk like normal people. They are stepping inside the room, stopping in their tracks to look at the people in the room. It looks like the crowd parts like the Red Sea to form a path only for them.

Steven Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes. – Two names you must know if you ever heard of New York City and its mob.

They are as good-looking as they are dangerous. A deadly combination of beauty and the beast hidden behind blue eyes.

If you don’t want to end up six feet under, you don’t mess with them. Or even look their way too long.

“Did you put on the underwear I told you to?”

“What has this to do with the party?” You sigh, as you still don’t know why Scott brought you here.

You’ve been dating for a few months, and you had hoped that tonight, he’d do more than the bare minimum. He’s not a bad guy, but an awful partner.

A criminal too. Not a criminal mastermind, but you already figured out that the small business he runs is far from legal.

“It’s important, babe,” you roll your eyes at the awful pet name. You hate it and told him so before. “Okay, don’t say anything stupid. Or, just look pretty and don’t say anything at all.”

“What?” Now you square your jaw. You don’t understand what has gotten into Scott until you lift your eyes off him to meet two pairs of blue ones. “Oh…”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes,” Scott looks pathetic when he bows for the heads of the mob in town. “I’m honored to meet you again. Thank you for having me.”

The men ignore Scott and his offered hand. Instead, they look at you. Steve almost shoves your boyfriend aside as he holds out his hand to take yours.

“I see you followed our invitation,” he lowers himself to press a kiss to the back of your hand. You shiver. He seems so polite, and kind. But behind his blue eyes, you can see the beast wanting to break free.

“Stevie don’t scare her off right away,” you are a little overwhelmed when James Barnes turns his attention toward you. He takes your other hand and kisses your knuckles, glancing at your ring finger. “No ring, doll? He didn’t ask you to be his forever?”

“No-“ You’re usually not shy, or meek. But these men crowd you like prey and have their hands on you. You know they are in a relationship, but right now, they look at you as if you are their latest meal. “We’re only dating for a few months.”

“A shame,” Steve cups your chin, making you whimper. You never felt like this before. Confused and aroused at the same time. These men are strangers, but oddly you feel safe in their presence. “What do you say? Shall we lead this to a more private area?”

You don’t know why they are interested in leading you and your boyfriend to a private area, but this can’t be good. People like them never have good intentions, and you assume Steve and Bucky are no exception.

“I’m good here…I mean. You should enjoy your party. Don’t you have to greet all the people you invited?” You nervously babble.

“Doll, they don’t care if we greet them or not. They are only here to show respect to us,” Bucky runs his index finger up your arm. He smirks as you involuntarily shudder at his touch. “Let’s lead this to our office.”

“Scott,” you dip your head to glance at your boyfriend. He looks up at Steve as if the man is carrying a halo on top of his head. “Scott!”

“Babe don’t be rude. We should follow them to the office,” your boyfriend is no help. He’s wringing his hands while staring at Steve Rogers. God, he’s such a pathetic little boy. You just see it now when you watch him interact with two real men.

“Fine,” you snap at Scott if only to end his pathetic act. “Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, please lead the way.”

“Do you want a drink or a canapé doll? We can ask the maid to get you something you’ll like,” Bucky sits next to you on the couch, one hand running up and down his thigh, the other creeping toward your thigh. He brushes his metal finger over your exposed skin, barely listening to what his partner has to say.

“Buck, did you listen?”

“Seal the deal,” the brunette clicks his tongue, “I’ll take care of the main act in the meantime. You know I don’t care about the conditions. We already negotiated them. You can take care of the details.”

“I want to take over more important tasks,” Scott suddenly says. He glances at you, and then he looks at Steve. “Sir, I agree on the terms. I’ll do anything to prove that you can trust me.”

“Does she agree on our terms too?” Steve dips his head to watch you stop Bucky’s hand from stroking your thigh. “Buck, we are talking here.”

“I know,” Bucky huffs. “All you do is talk to that slimy little bastard. Give him what he wants so we can get what we want.”

“Mr. Lang, you know that if we seal the deal, that you cannot break it. We have rules for a reason.”

“She will agree,” Scott hastily says. You snap your head toward your boyfriend, wondering what he’s talking about. “Right, Y/N? You’ll help me with the deal.”

“I told you that I’m not going to do anything illegal,” you hiss at Scott. “I looked the other way when you sold stolen phones to my colleagues, but I won’t actively help you. I’m not a criminal.”

“You didn’t talk about the deal with her?” Bucky suddenly jumps up to fist Scott’s jacket. “You dare to come to our house and lie to us?”

“I didn’t lie, Sir…Mr. Barnes. Y/N said she finds you hot, and all. She even talked about ending up between the two of you to her friend.”

“You sick fuck spied on me and Maria?” You growl at Scott. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes…I’m sure she’ll help you have a baby and all…”

“Baby what?” You furrow your brows. “Okay. This is getting ridiculous. What is going on here?”

“Well, we want you to become our surrogate. Bucky and I love each other dearly, but I cannot give him what he needs, nor can he give me what I want. A baby…an heir. We were looking for the perfect woman, with the perfect bloodline.”

“I-what?” The room suddenly caves in. You feel dizzy and grab the edge of the couch. “You want me to be your breeder?”

“No, doll,” Steve walks toward the couch to crouch down in front of you. “We want you to spend time with us…or rather between us.” He grins. “I want you to have my baby. And then you’ll have Bucky’s. We haven’t figured out whose allowed to breed you first.”

“Breed me?” Oh. God. Your pussy just clenched around nothing. If not for the anger taking over, you’d gladly jump Steve’s bones to have all the babies he wants. “Are you fucking insane? I’m not a piece of meat you can just buy!”

“We believed he talked about the deal with you, doll. Please, don’t be mad at us,” Steve purrs, and runs his hand over your cheek. “We only wanted what we deserve. The perfect woman having our babies.”

“She will agree…” Scott nervously says. He looks at you, hoping you’ll agree to whatever the two men holding his fate in their hands want. “Right babe?”

“I hate it when you call me that,” you jump up, and push Steve aside. “What did you believe will happen when you bring me here to offer my uterus and pussy to these two? Huh? That I’ll just bend over the desk and let them have their way with me!”

“I-uh…kinda…yes…”

“Pathetic,” you click your tongue as you glance at Bucky. He cracks his knuckles, ready to rough Scott up a little for messing with them. “I knew you were no good. I should’ve listened to my gut instinct.”

You dip your head to watch Steve walk toward his partner. They are looking at you, like lions ready to pounce. Those two men set their eyes on you, and you are not foolish enough to believe that they’ll leave you alone.

If you end up in their clutches, you’ll make sure they only get their hands on you to your conditions. “You want me and my womb?”

“More than anything,” Bucky purrs. He steps behind you to place both of his hands on your belly. “And I can tell, Stevie, and will love filling you up.”

Scott hopefully looks at you. This is the moment he was waiting for. He’ll be a made man soon, and his ex will see, he's more than the loser she sees in him.

You look at Steve, holding his gaze, “I’ll be yours if you get rid of him…”

Part 2

#steve rogers #anyfandomgoesbingo #bucky barnes #stucky bingo #stucky x reader #stucky x you #mafia au #mobster!steve rogers #mobster!bucky barnes #Indecent Proposal (1)#scott lang

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ghoul-bonez · 1 year ago

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~To You He Feels Like Home~

(Neteyam x Fem! Na’vi! Reader)

Summary: You were born to the forest, wild by nature, wild by nurture, and surely wild in spirit. Your animal family had always warned you about strangers, the odd people who looked like you, but when one approaches you, you can’t help but be curious. When your curiosity wears off and you deem him weird enough you’re convinced you’ll never see him again, but Eywa has other plans.

Word Count: 40.6k

Author’s Note: Welcome to the “To You He Feels Like Home” series! This was heavily inspired by by @imeanwhynotbruv ‘s Mowlie! Spider AU which you should check out! There will more than likely only be 3-4 actual chapters & a few “bonus” ones, but this could change…

Important Information: Neteyam & Reader are 18, everyone else is cannon ages, so Neteyam is a few years older than the rest.

~Main Masterlist~

Table of Contents:

Part 1: To You He Feels Like Home

Part 2: Your New Home

Part 3: He Makes Anywhere Home

Part 4: Welcome Home

Part 5: Anywhere Will Be Home If You’re With Me

Part 6: You Are Home

Extras:

The Second Meeting: You Always Find Your Way, Especially Back Home

The Third Meeting: A Halo Above His Head, A Dawning In Your Heart

The Fourth Meeting: There Is Familiarity, Even In New Places

Character Analysis: (Y/n) From Author’s POV

#fanfic #fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar movie #atwow fics #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x fem!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam suli x reader

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the-kr8tor · 7 months ago

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Talking Iron

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 5.4k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW blood, TW death, CW guns, CW injury, CW food mentions, CW vomit mention, CW violence. Cowboy AU, old west AU.

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 2 >>> CHAPTER 3

You haven't been this close to him in 5 years. Breath to breath, heart to heart, you watch yourself in his jade eyes like how one sees themselves for the first time.

“I've finally found you.” Eyes shining, smile brighter than the sun bearing down, you grasp his face tenderly—as if your own eyes deceive you, as if you're dreaming. “Hobie?” You call for him when he doesn't move an inch above you.

Hobie's green eyes just stare at you, or through you. Mouth agape, breath stuck in his throat. To get his attention, you place your thumb softly over the corner of his eye, rubbing gently like you always did when he needed to wake up from a daydream.

For a split second, he leans in your touch. But as fast as he leaned in, he flinched away just as quick. Hobie scrambles away on the dusty ground like you've burned him. You might as well have when he felt how cold the golden band around your middle finger is. Soil dirtying the thick leather he wears, he stands up shakily. With the sun behind him, you have a hard time seeing his face, seeing the face you've longed for. A shadow cast around him, a halo of light around his head, the shadow blanketing him, as if you're not allowed to bear witness to all his glory.

Instead of ‘I love yous’ or ‘I miss yous’ falling on his lips, harshness flows out of them. “What are you doin' ‘ere?”

Hands bound, you try to sit up but fail. “Looking for you of course!” You say cheerfully, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is to you, for him, it's the most confusing statement.

“Why?” Hobie's hands clenched into fists. He's not going to hurt you, he'll never hurt you—but he really wants to punch something. Just when he thought the past won't haunt him, just when he pushed the past behind him, you came to him like some miracle.

You almost scoff. “W-why? To see you, just like you wanted me to.” Finally succeeding to sit up, you huff. “Five years of no communication,” you say forlornly, “of course I'd come and see you the moment you sent word.” You smile again, and he looks away. Anywhere, anything else than the curl of your lips.

“Sent word?” He shakes his head. “I've never sent you anythin'” His words would pierce your heart but your excitement and relief triumphs over the feeling.

“A-are you sure?” You blink slowly, reaching up with your bound hands. “Can you help me up, please? I'll show you the letter.”

“Letter?”

“Can you stop asking and just help me up, Hobie? Please, the ground is hot.” With a quick nod, eyes still glancing away from you, he grabs you by the rope around your hands, avoiding touching your own; lifting you up rather quickly. The moment you're back on your feet, he yanks his hand away from you, to which you're too happy to even notice. “It's in my skirt pocket, the right.” You instruct him since you can't reach it with your hands tied. Hobie reaches to your left, hand roaming around your empty pocket, careful not to graze your thigh. “My right, Hobs.” He freezes in place, he hasn't heard that nickname in years. Without another word, he takes his hand back, then he searches for the neatly folded paper. “I've never pegged you to be a law man. Are you gonna turn me over, sheriff?”

Hobie scowls at the title, “not even close.” He sees how much it's been folded, like you've read it a thousand times. Opening the letter, scanning the contents, the pause gives you time to admire him fully. The whole ‘american cowboy’ shtick suits him, you think. You ogle him unabashedly.

Each word has his jaw tightening. It's in his writing, he remembers the exact words that's full of longing and sadness. It's full of the words you expect him to say. Yet, he wasn't the one who sent it. He's sure he didn't, especially that it was written when he was drowning in his amber filled glass. “Where'd you get this?” His eyes flick over to you, your smile faltering for only a second.

“A mail carrier?” You chuckle, “it was delivered to me.”

“I didn't send this to you.”

“Oh.” Your smile crumbles but you fix it back up almost immediately, optimism winning. “Maybe you just forgot? Remember when you forgot to put on a sock that one time and—”

“This isn't some sock, Y/N.”

“You didn't ask for me? Was it forged?” You ask quietly, heart shattering with every question.

Hobie shakes his head, sucking in his teeth, he pockets the letter. Taking the rope that hangs on your bounded hands, he tugs you back to the shop. “C’mon.” Boots thudding on the ground, he's going to do what he's good at—his job.

“W-wait! I haven't seen you in five years and you're seriously taking me to face charges? Not even a ‘hello’ or ‘how are you doing?’” You yank back, heels digging in to stop him.

“Hello, you're not goin’ to jail, I need the ten bucks. You seem fine so ‘m bringin’ you home.” Dragging you inside, the shopkeeper grins and even claps at the sight.

“That is so much worse! Hobie—” You plead, you don't remember ever pleading with him before.

“Good job, Mr…?” The moustachioed man asks, ten dollar bill in hand.

“No one.” Hobie snatches the bill, then immediately dragging you towards the front of the shop. The bells chime as he opens the door, but you're too polite to not say sorry to the man.

“I'm sorry for pointing the gun at you, but you shouldn't have shot at someone who cannot shoot back. It's rude—!” You get yanked outside, the man looks confused at your words.

“Don't apologize to him.” Hobie says, hands placed on your hips, a feeling that isn't foreign to you, but something you missed dearly.

You grin at him, expecting him to say the words you long for. Instead, you get lifted up. Yelping, connected hands flying to his wrists, he places you on his horse. Hitching your hands around the horn of his saddle.

“I think we're good, Hobie, you got his money. Can you untie me now?” You start to get nervous. The brilliant black horse looks over his shoulder, black marbles staring at you, paying you no mind. “Hi, I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure.”

“The horse doesn't talk, lov—” He stops himself before he could complete his sentence. Hobie lifts himself up, sitting behind you, legs next to yours, arms cageing you in while he holds the reins. “Thought you'd know that. Or is it because the horses back in England learned to talk after I left.” You still have no idea why he left, you're waiting for the right time to ask, for now your main concern is why your hands are tied.

“I know horses can't talk.” You roll your eyes, “I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm sure you're close to your horse, correct? You were always fond of animals.”

“His name is Buckeye.” Hobie says, with a slight kick and a click of his tongue, he holds the reins precisely, steering Buckeye towards the train station further out of town.

“Cute!” You exclaim despite the hunger, you're still happy that you found him. Or he was the one who found you. Hobie always has a knack for that it seems, whether you're hiding away or can't be bothered to be perceived by anyone but him, he always finds you. Always. “It's a cute name. Buckeye, fitting name for a horse that's as gorgeous as you, huh?” You lean down just in time for Buckeye to look back at you. He neighs like he understood you. “Yeah, you agree.” You giggle, the dark horse looks like he enjoys the attention.

Hobie is baffled by the whole interaction. “Stop cooing at my horse.”

“Why not? He seems to like it.” You touch his mane as best as you can with your hands still tied. “Right, Bucky?” The horse has an extra pep in his step with you figuring out his nickname. You continue to giggle, Hobie has no idea how Bucky warmed up to you so fast. “Where to, Hobs? Home?” You ask excitedly.

“Yes, your home.”

“Wait— What?!” You almost fell off with how fast you looked back at him.

—

All your questions were left unanswered, but you still think he's playing some sort of joke on you, a joke that is getting older with every tick of the giant clock that hangs above the railway station. A tumbleweed passes by on the train tracks, a warm breeze passes by the near empty train station. Hobie stands next to you, leaning on a pillar, eyes roaming around the barren place. He's far enough that you can't reach him and tell him all the words you wanted to say to him since he left. Yet, he's close enough that you can admire all the physical changes.

From the scruff of his growing beard, to the peeking scar around his neck—he looks like he grew up. The smoke from his cigarette curls upwards to the brim of his hat, parting ways down the middle like theater curtains that show his chiseled face. His jade eyes are as green as the grass at home, as green as the fields you used to run around with him. It reminds you of home, and at the same time, it reminds you of the years that went by without those green eyes by your side.

“You look really good.” You finally say something that isn't a question. Fingers playing with the gold band around your middle finger. “Seriously, what's your secret?” Your behind hurts from the hard wood of the bench. Travelers are sparse and far in between, you notice them staying away from you.

As predicted, he doesn't answer.

You copy his voice and demeanor just how you remembered it last. “Well, love, the secret is to bathe in cow's milk at least once a week. And to stay away from the sun.” You keep your smile despite the silence from your companion. “That's probably what you'd say.” He barely even looks at you. “Well, five years isn't that long,” you lie, it was an eternity without him. “I always thought you'd age well—”

“Five years is a long fuckin' time, Y/N.”

“Finally, a word from your mouth.” You reach towards him, impatiently showing him your tied hands. “Can you untie me now? I can't run from you, with my ankle still hurting and the fact that I'm starving and dehydrated, I won't be doing any running for a while.”

“You're starving?” There's a glimmer of worry in his eyes.

“Yes,” you almost exclaim. Hobie takes one step towards you, instead of untying your binds, he takes your bandana that hangs around your neck. You flinch in response, an act that has him questioning what happened to you in those five years he left.

Hobie kneels in front of you, more careful of any sudden movement, a vision of a younger him passes over your mind's eye. He lifts your skirt up, enough to show the wound on your ankle. Gloved hands wrap gingerly around your foot as he places it on top of his thigh.

“The bleedin' stopped,” not once has he looked in your eyes. While you stare at him affectionately, a soft smile on your tired lips. Hobie wraps your bandana around the wound, tying it with a knot that you're familiar with. You grin at the memory of him using it all the time. “There,” just as you thought, he taps your foot three times, a habit of his that you're fond of. Hobie realizes what he has done subconsciously, straightening up, he takes a wrapped biscuit from his pocket. Grabbing your hand, he places it unceremoniously on your palm like your skin burns him like a sinner to holy water. “Your people will be here any minute.”

“We've been waiting here for two hours. And who—? What people?”

“The people who want you back home.”

You almost drop the biscuit. “But I don't want to come home! I want to stay with you—!”

“Why are you really ‘ere, Y/N? Hmm? Great aunt not givin’ you enough allowance?” He flicks the cigarette butt away.

Your heart cracks, voice as small as a dormouse. “Why are you being like this?” Hobie inhales sharply. “I told you, I came to see you because of your letter where you wrote that you missed me and wanted to see me. I–I have so many of mine right here—” A train whistle rings out before Hobie could reply.

The smell of burning coal itches your nose, blackened smoke billowing out of the metal beast that creaks and shrieks on the steel tracks.

A small crowd exits the train once it fully stops. You notice Hobie standing closer to you, hand placed on the back of the bench. His eyes search for someone amidst the travelers while you take big bites of the dry biscuit, desperate to satiate the rumbling of your stomach. Damn all the etiquette lessons drilled into your brain, you're starving.

“Can I have some water?” You cough out, palm covering your mouth for some decency. “Hobie?” His head is on a swivel, eyes scanning the stranger's faces. You tug at his coat, he curses under his breath so you retract your hand quickly. “I'm sorry.” Your small voice startles him.

“What?” He looks down at you, your eyes are glued on your lap, palms up like you're waiting for punishment. His jaw tightens, knuckles shaking. What happened to you after he ran? “‘ere,” passing a canteen of water over to you, he places it on your open palms gingerly.

The cool metal of the canteen hits your skin, instead of stinging pain. “Thank you,” you take a drink, Hobie doesn't miss how your hands shake, almost spilling water all over yourself.

“Stop sayin' that.” He says it through a softer tone, “don't be so polite.” He's not trying to chastise you, but you don't know the difference.

“Sorry—I'll stop.” You close the lid to the canteen, giving it back to him without lifting your head up.

As the crowd thins, Hobie controls his breathing. It was better when you were looking at him, at least then he could see how happy you were.

“No one's here.” He finally says, the hands on his sides stretching, joints aching from the previous tightness of his knuckles.

“Because no one's looking.” You hope that was the case. Or at least it was just her looking for you, not him too.

“The reward on your head says otherwise.” Hobie wishes he didn't say everything that passes by his mind when you look at him like a heartbroken fawn. “C’mon.” He takes your arm, helping you stand up. He's ill equipped to handle emotions right now, especially if he can barely control his own.

“Where are we going?” You ask, shoes thumping across the floorboards.

“The post office, it's right around the corner.” Sure enough, the post office is connected to the railroad station. Convenient, you thought. Stopping next to Bucky on his post, he neighs at the sight of you. You smile at him, even though he can't possibly understand your expression. Hobie taps his saddle, subtly asking your permission to lift you up. You nod once, as if you could say no. With one strong lift, you're back on Bucky's saddle. “Right, stay ‘ere, scream if you're in trouble.”

“You're leaving me here?”

“No, I need to check my telegram. I can see you through the window, yeah?” He points at the foggy windows of the post office. “I'll be back in five.”

“What if someone comes?”

He's already halfway to the office. “Scream.”

An old woman with a cane and a trendy dress passes by, seeing your bound hands, she tosses Hobie a look of disapproval.

“It's fine, she's my wife and she likes to roleplay.” Once upon a time, he thought that he'd call you that for real. That was a different time. “Ain't that right, sweetheart?” He opens the door for the woman who looks at you for reassurance.

You give the stranger your best smile. “Yes, my love.” His finger twitches, breath hitching. “Don’t worry about me, ma’am, it's all good.”

The older woman scoffs, muttering a ‘the youth and their weird sex fantasies.’ She enters the office first while Hobie gives you an approving nod.

“The excuse wasn't even good.”

“It worked right?” With a smug smile on his lips, he enters the office while you settle on Bucky.

“Your rider's weird.” You whisper to his horse who huffs in response.

Hobie grabs a form on a table placed near the windows. He has the perfect view of you chatting with Bucky. A smile creeps up on him, to which he tamps down immediately. Writing all the necessary information, with a fake name and address of course, he gives it to the man at the counter who wordlessly reads it and searches in the back for any letters for him.

He watches you smile at his horse, desperately trying to remember how your laughter sounded. A real one where you would almost choke at your own spit because of a joke he told you. The smile curls around his lips once again.

An envelope slides out of the slot, his fake name, Larry Smith, is written in neat writing. He rips it open immediately, eyes skimming the contents. The words ‘change of plans’, ‘moved south’ that are followed by an address that he's familiar with in the southern area has him taking his hat off, hands rubbing along his hairline from how crappy the situation is. Judging by all the detail on the letter, it would take him weeks to get you there, months if something unsavory happens on the road. He has a feeling that something would happen based on the reward increase that's listed next to the address. From five thousand to six.

Your piercing scream rings all the alarm bells in his body, bolting straight away, he sees you try to fight off a couple of men that are quickly riding off with you. They're moving three ways from Sunday, their laughter fading out. Hobie's blood boils.

Buckeye neighs loudly, waking his rider up from his blind anger. Hobie unhitches the dark horse, long leg swinging over the saddle, boots immediately placed inside the stirrups, hands tightly curled around the reins. And off he goes, leaving the railroad station in the dust, galloping incredibly fast.

He hears you yell his name just before you were abruptly cut off by a cloth shoved in your mouth. “Y/N!” Desperately calling for you, anger rolls off him like an avalanche in the winter. Taking his pistol out, with one hand he aims. But with the speed and the jostling around, he can't aim straight—especially if there's a chance of him shooting you instead.

The phantom pain around his neck aches.

Adrenaline rushes through him, he sees reason, aiming at the other man that isn't holding you. With a click, and a squeeze of the trigger—he shoots. The bullet whizzes by with a piercing sound, hitting the man's shoulder, turning his insides out, spraying warm crimson everywhere. The pained yell he let out would haunt your dreams. Moreso of the sorrow filled scream his companion let out.

With a thud, the limp body falls, his own horse running him over. You shut your eyes, mind crawling back to the one place you were happy staying forever in, Hobie's tiny flat back home. Back when afternoon tea consists of him rambling about some new invention he thought of, back when his hands would roam over your skin softly. Back when you held him close to you as he whispered promises in your ears.

Now it's all rough leather against your hand, jade eyes avoiding your own, mouth permanently etched into a frown. You know him, deep down the Hobie who would press feather light kisses on your lips is still in him. That deep down he has built a façade to survive this lawless land, and it's hard for him to break that carefully made façade in one day. You'd find his softness again, but you have to survive this first.

The horse you've been thrown on has finally stopped running. Your chest hurts from all the jostling, you were placed stomach first on the saddle—where the jagged leather uncomfortably rubbed against you and the spine of the horse hit you over and over again. The strange man yanks you away, now you're completely standing up with a gun pressing on your temple. A cry inches up to your throat, the cloth in your mouth chokes you. The man smells of cow shit and iron.

You watch as Bucky halts to a stop, dust flying around like the fireflies back home. The hat on Hobie's head hides the anger in his eyes, trigger finger itching to shoot again.

You cry, his name muffled by the cloth. You didn't mean to cry, but everything hurts. The warm barrel of the gun digs into your skull, whilst your hands grip the stranger's arm, your nails hopelessly trying to claw him away from you. The stranger smells like death.

“You killed my brother!” The man screams in your ears, breath rancid, warm air tickling your cheek. Amidst the loud rushing of your blood in your ears, you hear hurried footsteps behind you. They sound like there could be dozens of them, all pointing their guns at the man you loved. Still love, even now.

Hobie doesn't get off his horse. He sits still, frozen like a bronze statue. The only indication of him being alive was his labored breathing.

“What's happenin’?” A gruff voice asks from behind, thick southern drawl making him stand out from the rest of the gang. “Who's this, Jacky?”

“The broad, the broad from the telegram. Henry and I recognized her, thought we'd be rich. We saw her first!” Jacky acts like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Where's Henry then?” The older sounding man asks.

“With a bullet in him,” Hobie's voice is calm, cold and calculating, none of the warmth you were used to. “He's laying in a pool of his own blood a few ways from ‘ere. I bet the coyotes have him now.”

“You fucker!” Jacky presses the gun closer, you cry out in pain. Hobie's hand twitches. “I'll fucking shoot her! I swear I'd shoot!”

“Do you think that's worth it? Getting her blood all over your nice camp?” Hobie's unfeeling tone makes you weep harder. “Killin’ your mark? My mark?” He speaks commandingly, teeth gritted.

You look up to the heavens, blue sky engulfing your vision. A part of you wants to go home, a part that regrets running away in the first place. But there's a bigger part of you that's glad that you saw him again, even though you face your imminent death. It was worth it, you suppose. At least now your heart can rest after seeing him alive. You close your eyes when the pistol next to your head clicks.

“You talk big, a life for a life then.” A tear slides down your cheek. Hobie aims for your captor's head.

“Wait a damn minute!” You hear footsteps come from behind, the older man steps between them. “I know I remember ya from somewhere.” He tips his hat at Hobie, just in time for you to see him stare at you back intensely. “Yeah, I know ya. You're the one who took out Culver's men in one night, ain't ya? Thirty fuckin’ men all dead in one night.” Gasps are heard from the dozen or so people from behind. You hear whispers of the name ‘spider of the west’ behind you. “Christ, you're him.” With his hands right next to his head in surrender, he looks over his shoulder over to you, you see fear in the old man's eyes. “Let the little miss go, Jacky.”

“An eye for an eye, Arthur—!” Jacky pleads.

“Let her go or I'll be the one putting a bullet to your head, boy!” His scream has you flinching.

Jacky reluctantly lets you go, you almost crumple to your feet but you still stand, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. Your hands tremble as you take out the musty cloth inside your mouth.

Arthur walks over to you, hand ghosting over your back. “‘m sorry about that, sweetheart.”

You walk with your head held high. “Don't say sorry.” Your tear filled eyes flick over to the bearded man. “You’re not the one who hurt me.”

“Still, I'd like to say sorry on behalf of my belligerent men.” He looks up at Hobie who's still sitting on his horse passively. But the older man seems to know the deadly storm brewing behind those emerald eyes. “I apologize for the…miscommunication. If my men knew who you were, they wouldn't have tried anythin'. Jacky and his brother are too big for their breeches. ”

“The next time I see any of you on the road, I won't hesitate.” Hobie says, eyes bright, burning like greek fire.

“As is your right. You take care now.”

You silently lift yourself up on Bucky, with the help from Hobie, hand sliding away the moment you successfully tug yourself up behind him. Hobie doesn't see how vacant your stare is. You refuse to hold on to him, you're afraid of what he did, not of him. He thinks it's the other way around, it's his worst nightmare.

As you both gallop away, the last thing you heard above the hoofbeats is the unmistakable sound of a gun going off.

—

You're getting further and further away from the town you were in. The sun sets next to you as you look at the blood caked under your nails. You no longer shake or cry, just numb.

Buckeye passes by a lone graveyard, metal fences jagged and angled awkwardly. The dilapidated chapel cracks and falls under its own weight. Crows have made a home on the old tombstones, their cawing and beady black eyes raise the skin on your arms. The names of the dead are barely readable on the tombstones—rotten pots of flowers lay on the bed of graveyard soil, black petals going back to where they came from. You look away, afraid that if you don't, you'd see yourself among them.

The large rock formations loom overhead, jagged lines curved and sculpted by time. The holes dotted along its large walls act like a thousand eyes watching over you. Beady limestone eyes twitching, bleading, and crying. The sun fades away behind the horizon, cold replacing warmth, shadows replacing light.

Everything aches, your legs are still shaking from the encounter, the rustling tumbleweeds makes you jump. Eyes frantic, breath quickening, hands going numb—mind reeling back to the bloodied dead man.

“Stop.” You say too quietly. “Stop the fucking horse!”

Hobie reigns in Bucky, halting to a stop. You slid off ungracefully, knee hitting the ground as you scramble away. Bile rises in your throat, acid expelled out of your mouth because of your near empty stomach.

Familiar footsteps walk behind you, you wait for him to close the distance, to hold you close like he has always done five years ago. Yet, he stays far, stopping just a few feet away from your trembling body.

With shaky legs, you stand up, back still facing him. You wipe your mouth clean with your sleeve, Hobie's hand twitches for the handkerchief inside his pocket. He doesn't give it to you. He doesn't know why he didn't. Sniffing, you cough, eyes still stinging.

“Did they hit your head?” He finally says something, his words echoing in the vast empty space.

“No, I'm fine.” You pass by him, hands braced on Bucky's side.

“Y/N—”

You whirl around, “I said I'm fucking fine!” Heaving, chest aching, you rub your tired eyes. “I'm fine, don't worry about me, okay? Can we go?”

“We'll camp ‘ere.” With Hobie's statement, you look back at where you came from. Your captor's camp is miles away from you now, but you swear you can still feel the barrel of his gun digging into your skull, and the rotten smell of his mouth. “They won't follow us.”

“He knew you,” your eyes don't shine with the same optimism he was greeted with. “He looked scared when he remembered you. Hobie, W–what did you do to get him to fear you like that?”

“A lot of things you shouldn't worry about.” He walks past you, grabbing his pack from the saddle. “The less you know, the better.”

You nod, tears brimming in your eyes. He's not the old Hobie you remembered. He would've told you, he used to tell you everything. The gold ring in your finger feels heavy. And all the unsent letters you've hidden inside your skirt feels empty, the flowery words you've written inside are unrequited.

As day fades away to night, the moon shines bright as the stars twinkle above you. The warmth of the open fire settles into your fatigued bones, the pads of your fingers slowly regains feeling. The air is crisp, breeze blowing your lashes, cooling down the hot can of beans in front of you. The scene in front of you reminded you of the time you used to sneak out into the woods to meet with Hobie. He'd light a small fire and huddle close to you while you point out constellations. The beans are new, you wish they were bread instead, like the ones you used to nick from the kitchen.

This time, he sits across from you, far away from you as the fire cackles in between you both. The flames dance in his green eyes, a beautiful sight that you love—yet, you can't help but stay away from it.

“Cold?” He asks, hands properly warmed up from the hot can.

“No,” you answer flatly, legs tucked into you, chin placed atop your knees while you watch the embers flicker away into the dark. The cold helps, it helps numb you down.

“Alright.”

In another time he would've offered his coat, not just the shabby itchy blanket thrown over your shoulders. It all seems like a lifetime ago now.

You have no idea what caused him to leave without a goodbye, whether it was you or your unfeeling family, or for a pursuit of something better—but you know in those five years he has changed, you know he's still the Hobie you love, but you can barely recognize his heart anymore. You came to the new world for a new life with him, away from your predetermined life, because through and through you still love him. The promises he once whispered into your skin repeats in your head like a broken record. It's what's keeping you warm, sane, and in the present.

He eats silently, while you wallow into yourself. You've braved the ocean to see him, rode a dozen trains to get close to him, lost so much and gained so little just to see him alive. Was it all worth it? Worth all the calluses on your feet from all the walking? Worth all the tears you shed just to realize that maybe he doesn't love you anymore? That he fell out of love in those five grueling years?

Does he know that you still love him?

The man sitting across from you is a stranger. Not the one you promised your heart to.

“Hobie?” You call for him, heavy eyes staying on the ashes in front of you.

“Hmm?” He hums, barely audible for you. You silently wish that you don't get used to all his halfhearted replies. You need to hold on to a part of him from five years ago or you'll go crazy and run off into the barren lands of the west.

Against better judgment, against the screaming voice in your head, you finally look at him right in his eyes. “Why'd you leave?”

He quietly sighs, “I had to.” Those green eyes you love so much swirl with unsung emotion that you're not privy to. “Why'd you run away from home?”

“I had to.”

Hobie nods once.

You take your dinner in your cold hands, biting down the bitterness and the feeling. With an inhale, you smile through the pain of your realization. It's better not to dwell on it, or you might lose yourself. Instead, you take the opportunity to live in the moment with him—Relish your time with Hobie or whatever time you have left with him on the journey home.

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khuzena · 9 months ago

Text

Your Guardian Angel

Sunday x g/n!reader

Summary: oh guardian angel, my sweet guardian angel. Save me, Save me. If you can't, what're you truly for? When your angel loves you, when he betrays destiny for you; only for his wings to be chipped at the expense of a helpless attempt.

Cw. Very angsty, falling in love (but it's forbidden), religious references (specifically Christian topics) AU where ppl can talk to their angels lol, mentions of self harm but no actual scene with it!!!, no bandaid can fix the emotional wound after reading this. SOME fluff, no comfort like usual. 🫨🫨🫨 YOU DIE!

A/n: I'm on fire (like literally. It's 36° here.)

Your knees burn as you stare up at the altar displayed in front you, you wonder if the aeons would be kind enough to finally send you your guardian angel.

“Please,” you begged, wishing any god to heed your call, “Just this once I'll ask.”

“Send me someone kind, someone to protect me.”

That day, fate was generous enough to grant you your angel.

A chill ran down your spine, rubbing your eyes for good measure to make sure you weren't dreaming.

“You called?”

You gulp nervously, the being's halo blinding you.

One, he reached his hand out to you, his smile all you needed to feel okay.

Your guardian angel accompanies you whenever you go out to buy groceries, when your fingers trace along the unhealthy snack bar, he's quick to tut and swat your hand away.

“That's unhealthy, dear.”

“But—”

“Just this once?”

He shook his head no, feeling distraught, you devised a plan to grab a pack of double chocolate cookies; much to his dismay.

Who did you think you were fooling?

“Dear, I said no.”

You sighed, “Just one?”

Out of all the humans on the list, why'd he pick you? But when you smile at him so brightly, out of every human he's ever guided, he's still unsure of his answer—

Your shoulders slump, “Pretty please?”

He exhales an exasperated sigh, letting you win over him just this once.

“Fine.”

— Maybe he is, Maybe he isn't.

There were times nightmares were unkind and brutal that you'd wake up in cold sweat. Your mind flashing you memories of the past you wished to lock away, you'd pray again.

“Dear, wake up,” that familiar soothing voice ringing in your ears.

Where? The shackles of that dream still bruise you harshly, yet your loving guardian angel is there to soothe your scars.

“It's okay.”

It's not okay, you know.

No words were exchanged when he took your hand in his, his honey eyes seeing through you, “Just breathe.”

Your tears found solace in his shoulder as he patted your back, letting you cry it all out, “It hurts, Sunday.”

“I know,” his gloved hand wiping your tears gently, “I know.”

Like a child, for many dreadful nightmares to come, you cry and cry for him to relieve you of this pain. You needn't to get on your knees and ask the aeons for comfort. All you need to do is shed a single tear and he'll kiss them away.

Two, your oh so sweet guardian angel, he drives them all away.

Years pass and you've grown used to your guardian angel, you'd find him taking the form of an owl.

Like one time, you were in class— culinary class to be specific. Who knows what aeon decided to ruin your day and made you trip on a puddle of leftover batter on the tiled floor.

“Eek—!”

You'd think you'd hit head first but something held you up, when you turned around, there was no one there.

The owl perched on the branch just outside the window, shook its head in dismay, once again, you don't die today.

He may save you from all catastrophes but he cannot save you from impending doom.

As an angel, by all means, he has every right to read your destiny; woven by lord Xipe, of course.

Eyes narrowing at the scroll, your life ends early when you get roped into an unforeseen accident at a public event.

“Sunday, dear. 5 days until your host departs,” his beloved lord's voice echoing the room as they loom over his shoulder to watch your end unfold.

“We should find you a new human.”

Sunday trembled at the sight, a memory he wishes to never replay again. You were in an event and some drunkard decides to shoot it all up, bullets ablaze as you get caught in the crossfire.

“I…”

I mustn't disobey lord Xipe.

“Yes, lord Xipe,” he gave a weak smile to his god, your death still replaying.

How could he be fine?

When you tell him of your dreams, how you'd leave this wretched city, leave penacony and write your own fate; when destiny had already set yours in stone.

“Do you think I'll become big in the industry?”

The sunset falls upon you too and he doesn't have it in him to tell you what's bound to happen to you, “Yes.”

“You sound hesitant.”

“I'm just thinking.”

It wasn't often you see Sunday like… this.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, “It's nothing.”

You two have been together long enough that it only takes you a second to realise the shift in the atmosphere, “Whatever, I'm going to be successful and we'll travel.”

He wonders if you noticed the way his wings are stiffening at your words, he may be an angel, “Sure,” but he is a liar first.

He doesn't want to think about it, he doesn't want to remember.

Your curious eyes never leave him, he wishes it did. He wishes he never got too attached.

That disgustingly sweet smile of yours, you'll never know that it made home in his head.

“Here,” he wore the rosary in your hand, it felt comforting feeling his gloved hand against your skin, “What is this for?”

He still doesn't have the courage to look you in the eye knowing 3 days from now they'd be devoid of light, “For protection, to show devotion to our god.”

You let out a hum of approval, admiring the beads.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes”

“I'm glad.”

Fleeting moments like these don't last. But when he musters up the courage to look you in the eyes again; he wishes that Lord Xipe was loving enough that this moment would.

Destiny is a strange thing. It gives you time to dream but never enough time to do.

Just where the hell were you?

Sunday panics as he flies over the crowd, exactly a minute before your death.

Lord Xipe must be cruel, watching from the stars as he scurries in the mortal realm like a rat to save a mere mortal like you.

“Sunday?”

‘Bang.’

You hear gunshots piercing the skies and those beside you.

“What's happening—”

“Just shut up,” angels were not allowed to be this crude but for your sake, he covered your eyes as he led the two of you behind a pillar.

Your gut instinct tells you to run but you've grown to trust him enough with your life. How could you not when he gently wraps his arms around your trembling figure?

“S-sun… day…,” you cried, feeling something piercing your stomach.

But how? He… he saved you didn't he?

“Stay calm,” he scolds you as if he wasn't scrambling around his options on how to save you, “Please.”

He prays, “Lord Xipe, please.”

But songs stay unsung, prayers remain unheard.

He cries to the sky as crimson stains his gloves, his holy tears cannot patch your wounds. His prayers cannot fix you. If he had known, he would not have sung those odes to lord Xipe, if only he had known his god's mercy was nothing but just strings of fallacies.

“Lord Xipe!”

An agonising scream that transcends the barrier of heaven and earth, yet his beloved god turned their back on him.

Your eyes shut then he felt the hand that intertwined with him go limp, “Lord Xipe.”

In desperate sobs, “Please.”

No amount of begging would bring you back, just like his sister, Robin, you are dead, you are gone.

Not being able to save you— he's betrayed you.

He kissed your cheek before letting death take you.

My God, why have you forsaken me?

He has no time to mourn, “It burns,” under the scrutinising gaze of the divine, his wings turn charcoal black.

Lord Xipe is all forgiving yet they have abandoned him for something so little.

A god so forgiving, yet when Sunday looks down at his hands, only a shade of balsam and black stare back at him.

There is no redemption for his sin, there is no redemption for either of you.

You can no longer dream, he can no longer dream with you.

His halo crumbles into ash and an undeniably painful grief fills him, “Lord xipe.”

His radiant halo no more, only to be replaced by the glow of the sunset like a crown of thorns.

He cries again, his god is gone and you are too.

Note: forgive me if its kinda shit, i really can't think of an angst idea for sunday that isn't yandere since im not rlly big about yan tropes anddd not proofread. I hope y'all enjoyed it tho, i just needed to get this idea out of my brain. Sunday is vv manipulative but i js wanted to write a ver of him thats just gentle ISTFGGGGGG

Written by @khuzena. Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated. ♡

#what have i done #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr fluff #hsr x reader #sunday x reader #sunday fluff #hsr sunday #hsr angst #hsr sunday x reader #honkai star rail sunday #honkai star rail sunday x reader

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emepe · 9 months ago

Text

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The perfect first date: food, honest conversations, and tragic news.

— Content warnings: murder, mention of child neglect, implied SA.

— Notes: Hello, everybody! Welcome to chapter 5 <3 Thank you so much to everybody who has shown support for this story, especially those who have joined the tag list. If anyone else would like to be added, lmk in the comments here or for the chapter guide, or through DMs. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

I want to know you

“Oh my gosh.”

Your muffled praise comes out in between chews.

Eren watches you amusedly as you swallow and wash the first bite of your taco down with agua de horchata.

“You like it?” he grins, an endeared laugh sputtering from his lips as he watches your brows scrunch in concentration toward your meal.

Your eyes shimmer with joy when you look up at him and nod.

For your first date, Eren decided to take you out to the food trucks stationed across town. You finally got the chance to try out the tacos Sasha and Connie raved about the night you met everybody. It was the perfect way to secure a fun time while also curing you of any leftover hangover symptoms. With the fresh air brushing through your hair and cooling your skin, and Eren as your companion, you couldn't have asked for anything better.

Eren could barely get a wink of sleep after he got back to his apartment, his excitement too much for his body to bear as he replayed everything in his head. The moment you kissed him first, when you made tea together, when he kissed you, and when you told him you liked him back. Even now, as he watches you test how much salsa you can handle in one bite, the memories keep swirling in his mind in a swoon-worthy loop.

The reality of it all still hasn't fully sunk in. He doesn't even know when you could've possibly changed your mind. It all fed into the theory that he probably didn't need to stress about it as much as he did — all he had to do was be himself. But what kind of man would he be if he just assumed you'd give into his charms no matter what?

This moment, he thinks, is nothing but bliss.

“You're staring again,” you murmur, glancing at him through your lashes.

It's never bothered you if you're honest. Eren’s intense gaze has always been warm, always shy, and full of admiration. Even before last night, you never chose to call him out for it. It was innocent. Now that you've confessed to mutual feelings, every glance, every accidental or purposeful touch begs to be acknowledged.

You marvel at his cute side, which makes him blush profusely and produces that boyish laugh of his each time, in place of muttered apologies or swallowed words.

There's still an air of tension on scarce occasions when he debates which limits have been implicitly lifted after last night's intimate moment in your apartment. It's all so new, and your friendship was fairly brief. Asking if he can hold your hand, hold you by the waist, or tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear is still a bit awkward for him.

“I can't help myself. You're just too pretty.”

It's your turn to avert your gaze shyly, your cheeks burning intensely. Of course, the compliment was more than welcome. You purposely stayed awake after he left your place to lay out the perfect attire for the occasion. A chunky beige sweater, a denim skirt, and knee-length boots were the way to go, you decided. As a special touch, a chunky silk headband adorned your head — a nod of sorts to your halo from the Halloween party.

“Your tacos are gonna get cold if you keep getting distracted,” you murmur, though a hint of a smile slips through the cracks of your stern demeanor.

“Fine. Let me stuff my mouth and shut up,” he sighs, faking a sniffle.

You laugh.

On the other side of the park, five people watch your first date unfold before their eyes from the safety of an SUV.

“Are you sure it's them?” Sasha asks from the backseat. Jean and Mikasa have their matching sunglasses low on the bridges of their nose as they squint at the picnic table you and Eren are sharing.

“For sure, for sure.” Jean nods.

“No wonder neither of them replied to the groupchat,” Mikasa adds.

“We could go eat somewhere else?” Connie suggests.

Sasha instantly grumbles a fervent denial.

“I've been craving tacos since before we even got to the bar last night.”

“We could just wait them out. They're not gonna stay here forever. Eren's taking her for a drive after.”

Jean shoots an annoyed glance at Armin through the rearview mirror.

“You knew they were coming here?”

Armin raises both hands in surrender.

“He only mentioned it in passing when I called him last night! I didn't think we'd bump into them.”

“Maybe, we should go,” Mikasa suggests. “This feels too much like spying.”

The group watches as Eren brushes your hair out of your face when the wind picks up for a brief moment, leaving you to look up at him with a shy smile shaping your lips.

A collective aww echoes inside the car.

“So,” Eren says, smacking his lips together after a sip of water. “I have to ask you something.”

“Hm?”

“What changed your mind?”

“I already told you. You grew on me.”

From the way you avert your gaze and bring the plastic cup of water to your lips for a long sip, he can tell it's an attempt to dismiss the topic.

He zeroes in on your face and stays that way even after your eyes meet his and read through his silent plea.

“I like how kind you are,” you finally say, voice as soft as ever, caressing his ears and pulling at his heart with every syllable.

Eren doesn't consider himself to be known for his kindness. In fact, before this very moment, it hasn't been a topic to linger in his mind. He doesn't lie awake at night thinking about how he may be perceived and what he can do to switch the narrative in his favor. But perhaps you've hit the nail on what makes Eren Jaeger so appealing beyond his looks because a genuinely kind person doesn't have to think much about being so.

“You're… caring and strong but gentle at the same time. And you're genuinely nice to everyone, it's admirable.”

Eren's skin burns with a fever as he holds your gaze.

“I'm actually a bit jealous,” you murmur, tearing your gaze from him to focus on your now empty plate.

“What? Why?”

You shake your head, refusing to answer him.

“Nothing. Forget I said that.”

You don't have the nerve to explain your reasoning as you feel yourself shrink to half your size. It's not something one can just say — to tell someone that you wish you'd met them sooner because maybe then you wouldn't have had to spend your formative years feeling so lonely, that you would've done anything to have been handled with such care when everything was going downhill. To get drunk off of it and maybe now you wouldn't be so closed off to any attention and yet simultaneously still so desperate to be taken care of, to allow yourself to be cradled in someone's arms. It's embarrassing to display such childlike ideas — you're responsible for yourself; you and only you.

Eren's lips press into a thin line as he observes you through pensive eyes. His features soften soon enough, as he decides to retreat from crossing any boundaries.

“Do you mind if I ask one more thing?”

He raises his hands in defense when you start fidgeting in your seat.

“It's not about what you just said, I promise.”

Warily, you nod.

“When we met at Armin's party… I really wanted to get your attention.”

The familiar wave of heat starts washing over his cheeks.

“I thought you were pretty — even before when I bumped into you at the bakery. Then when I saw you talking to everyone and smiling, I just… I couldn't stop looking at you. And so I tried to get you to notice me too, you know? But when you said you didn't see me that way I figured I should stop trying. I thought maybe I would get over my crush and I'd be fine with being just friends. So when you kissed me last night at the bar… I kept racking my brain for what I could've done to make you think of me differently.”

Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, the heavy exhale ending in soft shy laughter.

“I'm just curious, that's all. I swear I wasn't trying to get you to look at me anymore.”

A moment passes by in silence after his admission. He waits patiently, his gaze bouncing from your face to his hands, to nowhere at all, and back to you.

“It's a little embarrassing,” you begin.

“I want to know.”

“You remember when we both went to Armin's apartment? When he got sick?”

He hums, encouraging you to continue.

“You were moving around his kitchen, making him soup and tea. And then you sent him to his room to make him rest.”

You bring a hand up to cover your face, much too shy to give him a full view of your meek expression as you continue speaking.

“You were so stern but gentle. I might’ve felt something that day.”

Pride swells in Eren's chest as the butterflies stir frantically in his stomach and his cheeks flare with heat.

“Then the day we went apple-picking. When you took care of me after I got hurt?”

He nods when you glance up at him briefly to make sure he's still paying attention.

“That's the day I realized I liked you.”

His attempt at biting back a grin fails miserably and he finally gives in to the thrill produced by the new information.

You notice this. It's endearing to watch him light up at the compliments you direct at him. It's as if your words hold an incredible power over him — the power to make him a blushing, grinning mess.

“And you're insanely hot, I can't keep lying to myself,” you bluntly state with a shrug.

The sudden laughter bubbling up his throat causes him to fall into a fit of amused coughing. Your laughter laces with his, the sound dancing around you both like music.

“What about you?” you ask once he regains his breath.

Eren's head tilts in confusion.

“I've never changed my mind since meeting you,” he firmly states.

The seriousness in his tone squeezes at your chest. You clear your throat, bashful.

“I mean, the exact moment you started feeling something.”

“The night we met. When we were out on Armin's balcony,” Eren replies without missing a beat.

Your eyebrows twitch in shock.

“That soon? That was the first day we met.”

Flashes of that night come flooding into Eren's memory. The image of you looking up at him with glassy eyes as you wondered aloud if there would be anyone to mourn you — so small, so fragile. He wanted to cradle you in his arms and nurse you to sleep. Just looking at you built an incredible pressure in his chest. From that moment on, he had no doubts about his simple crush evolving into something more meaningful.

“I really couldn't stop looking at you.”

“They look good together.”

A series of hums and murmured agreements follow Mikasa's statement.

“We can't let them know we spied on their first date,” Connie says, his eyes looking down sternly at everyone until they nod in agreement.

“Blame Armin. He knew the entire time,” Jean jokingly mutters, glancing briefly at the blond through the rearview mirror.

“Again, I didn't think we'd bump into them. Jeez, give me a break,” Armin huffs.

Mikasa suddenly gasps as she watches you and Eren get up from the picnic table and head out of the park to where Eren's car is parked.

“They're leaving, get down!”

The drive to somewhere unknown to you is reminiscent of the drive to Sunrise Orchards. The only difference is that this time, nobody occupies the backseat and it's just you, Eren, and the soft music that swirls around you.

After Eren refused to give you any hint of your destination, you calmly accepted anything to come your way. As you and Eren engage in an inevitable game of twenty-one questions — nobody's keeping count — you keep your focus on the passing trees and speeding cars, fingers mindlessly tapping along to the beat of the songs that play on the radio that you happen to know.

“What's something you're really nerdy about?” you ask.

He hums in thought for a moment, then laughs.

“I collect Sailor Moon figurines.”

Your eyes widen.

“Really?”

Grinning, he nods.

“Not in a weird way,” he clarifies. “I just loved watching the show when I was growing up, and it kind of stayed with me.” He shrugs. “I like cute things.”

You giggle.

“I'm surprised, I would've thought you were into Dragon Ball Z.”

“Oh, I'm definitely a fan, too. But kid Eren wanted to marry Sailor Mars when he grew up.”

You laugh.

“Okay, your turn.”

“What do you think of aliens? Real or fake?” Eren asks.

While your questions mostly refer to basic things such as places he’s traveled to, sports he's played, how many years since he moved to the city, and how many relationships he's been in — he did a year abroad in Spain during college, played lacrosse in high school, it's been three years, and he's only ever had one girlfriend — his land on a random spectrum, from asking about your favorite snacks to your thoughts on the moon landing and if you would've turned around had you been Orpheus.

“Real,” you say without an ounce of hesitation.

“Really?”

He turns to look at you with surprise.

“It's ridiculous to think there's nothing but space matter out there,” you explain matter-of-factly. “The universe is huge. We haven't even explored more than five percent of our own ocean. There's got to be tons of stuff we don't know about up there.” Your hands move around in broad gestures as your voice picks up with every word.

“Okay, relax,” he laughs. “I agree, aliens are real.” He shoots you an accomplice smile. “Maybe.”

You playfully punch his arm.

“Easy there, Rocky. I'm driving here.”

A laugh sputters from your lips.

“Your turn,” he murmurs amusedly.

You hum as you look out the window pensively until a question pops into your head.

“Are you religious?”

He shrugs.

“I'm not sure what to call it. My mom's catholic so I grew up going to church and all those things. I don't know if I actually believe in God, though. I'd feel like a hypocrite if I said yes knowing I haven't prayed since I was a kid.”

“What about your dad? Was he religious?” you ask, disregarding the fact your turn in the game is over.

“I think he just converted to make my mom happy. He was more of a science man.”

You nod contemplatively.

“Your turn,” you murmur.

“Hm… same question.”

You inhale deeply, holding the air in your lungs as you briefly think your answer over.

“I'm not,” you conclude.

He eyes you furtively.

“Why's that?”

A familiar pain wraps around your throat, as you debate whether to choke the words out or swallow them. Eren turns to you, concerned, as he pulls into a line of cars looking to be let into what seems to be a private park. You make your choice.

“I used to pray a lot when I was younger. I don't think I asked for much but everything always went unanswered.”

The amount of times Eren's been waiting for you to steer near the topic of your past is too many to count. Ever since your drunken comment at Armin's apartment, he's been wanting to know. Pure curiosity played a huge part, of course, but mostly he’s been wanting to understand you. Maybe get to know why you’re so quiet, and why you shrink into yourself when coming face to face with new people.

So now, when it feels like your words are teetering on the edge of the topic, he can't help but feel consumed by the fear that you'll close the door on him before he gets a chance to offer you an ear.

The car behind him honks impatiently, breaking Eren out of his daze and forcing him to pull up to the now empty spot beside the entrance booth.

He pays the entry fees and pulls up the car into a gravel parking lot.

“Give me a second,” he smiles before climbing out of his seat and rounding the car to open your door. He keeps a hand on the roof of the car to keep you from bumping your head as you step out and look around curiously.

There's barely a crowd, just a couple of families making their way onto some wooden paths lined with tall grass on both sides. The wind is a bit stronger than it was before, but nothing you can't manage.

“Where are we?”

You look at Eren quizzically.

Typical of when he's nervous, he runs a hand through his hair.

“Come on,” he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leading you down the same path you saw the other families disappear into.

The further you walk, the wooden planks that make up the path you walk on are further buried in sand. The air grows saltier and the wind grows cooler as the grass at your sides thins out and you're exposed to a private beach.

You look up at Eren. He shrugs.

“You said you wanted to go to the beach.”

Your lips perk into a delighted smile as you take in the view. Even with the sky in all its gloomy autumn glory, your face lights up at the scene. The water calmly washes back and forth, kissing the shoreline each time as its foaming whispers tickle your ears. The tall grass behind you sways with every blow of the wind.

“I know it kind of sucks right now because of the weather but I wanted to get first dibs with you before we come back in the summer with everyone else.”

You cover a giggle with your hand as you both walk deeper into the sand. Your boots were a fortunate fashion choice. Otherwise, you'd have sand sneaking into your shoes had you worn sneakers like Eren. He doesn't seem to mind, though, as he happily walks beside you, eyeing you carefully in case you take a bad step.

The two of you sit side by side on the sand, far enough from either of the families that came before you so that any ensuing conversations are kept just between you and him.

You close your eyes and allow the salty air to fill your lungs as the wind blows at your hair.

Eren keeps his eyes on you the entire time, admiring every dip and curve of your side profile until you gently call his name and meet his mesmerized gaze.

“Hm?” he hums, brushing any stray hairs from your face.

“I have a confession to make,” you sheepishly murmur.

An eyebrow quirks up on Eren's face in response.

“I've been to the beach before. Just once.”

He nods along, unsure of where you're headed.

“It's not a good memory.” Your voice shrinks. “But this is nice.”

The grateful smile on your face fades just long enough for you to lean over and kiss his cheek. That same smile grows when his face reddens.

“Do you mind if I sit a little closer?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

You inch closer to him, enough so that when you turn to look at him again, your faces are just inches apart.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You're welcome,” he whispers back.

You remain quiet for a moment, purely enjoying the act of looking into each other’s eyes. It'd be great practice for Eren to stop feeling so shy now that you look at him in the way he always wished you would if he weren't blushing profusely the entire time. But it gets easier with every precious second.

His eyes dart to your lips, which causes you to finally be absorbed by the same shyness as him as you lower your gaze for a second before looking back at him.

Eren has never been so captivated by another girl like this. He so desperately wants to cup your face in his hands and kiss you, but the words you've scattered on the way here keep gnawing at his brain.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nod.

“Now that we're dating,” he pauses to clear his throat. The words are brand new on his tongue, he can nearly imagine a sweet taste to them even if the ones to follow are laced with an uneasy sensation. “Is it okay if I ask you about more personal things?”

Eren has been witness to you looking small only a handful of times — or rather, two. This makes three.

Upon your hesitation, he decides to retract the idea.

“I’m sorry. If you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

A reassuring smile pulls at the corners of his lips.

“I can talk about aliens for hours on end.” He sighs. “I just… my offer from last time still stands… and I meant it when I said I want to learn everything about you. But I don’t want you to feel pressured to tell me about it.”

You shake your head — finally, a response.

“It’s not that,” you mutter. “I just don’t want you to feel like I’m dumping everything on you. It wouldn’t be fair.”

His eyes soften.

“I’m asking, though.”

Uncertainty clouds your eyes, leaving Eren to wonder just how bad everything must be for you to feel so scared. Just your blunt revelation on that first night felt like a low blow. It’s more than likely the weight of it all has been crushing you from the inside your entire life.

You nip at the cracks on your lips, pulling at a sliver of skin until it peels and leaves a faint trace of blood.

It’s hard to let someone in. You know Eren means well — offering to hear you out and willing to ease the weight that’s been suffocating you for twenty years. But the way you see it, it’s incredibly selfish to ask him to share your burdens when you’re barely strong enough to hold onto them yourself.

If you’re a bit more honest with yourself, you’re also trying to guard him from destroying his perception of you. You know he’s liked you from the start. You wanted to keep a friendly distance — that was the plan. After all, there’s only so much one can grasp when looking at the big picture.

Now that you’ve come to understand how you feel about him — and now that you feel you have something to lose — it’ll devastate you to have him see how truly weak and battered you are. He’ll want to comfort you — tell you that you can always seek refuge with him. You’ll accept out of greed. Little by little, you’ll get used to relying on his protection and embrace and he’ll inevitably get tired of it. Not that Eren seems like the kind of person to abandon someone he claims to care about, but sometimes even the most patient hearts get worn down.

“If there’s anything you don’t want to talk about, you can just… punch me in the face or something. I can take a hint.” Eren shrugs.

Your laughter pours into the palm of your hand. Eren watches you proudly, relieved at his success in dissipating your tension.

“Okay,” you murmur.

With an appreciative smile on his lips, he nods.

“Alright.”

He leans back, pressing his palms into the sand as he looks up at the sky in thought.

“What was the town you grew up in like?”

In Eren’s eyes, you nearly seem relieved by the question, which is exactly why he started with something fairly easy. He won’t take things too far today, just enough to strengthen the foundation of what he wants to build. The rest, you can tell him with time.

The name of a city Eren’s never heard of comes out of your mouth.

“It’s not a very big town,” you explain. “But I guess still big enough to have a bad side.”

A humorless chuckle escapes your lips.

“Um… there’s not much to say, really. I was born there, grew up there, and went to school there. It wasn’t a violent area but it was pretty… forgotten, I guess. Most of the people living there were low-income. I lived in this really small apartment with my parents. It only had one bedroom so the living room was also my room. There were many kids there but they were either too old or too young for me to play with, and you already know I don’t have any siblings, so… you know, I grew up feeling pretty lonely.”

You sigh, offering Eren some silence as a sign that you’re done answering his first question.

“What were your parents like?”

“My mom… was really pretty,” you smile, though when you look back at him, Eren notices a hint of tears lining your lashes. “She had me when she was a senior in high school so my parents got together pretty young. After they separated, I still got to see my dad for a while until he just… forgot. I think he got a new family but I’m still not sure the man I saw a few years ago was him. If it was, then, he was doing pretty well. He was driving his kids to school.”

“Did you like school?” he asks.

“I loved it.”

Your face lights up as you recall your moments spent in a classroom, thrilled to learn and devouring every book you could from the school’s library.

“I wanted to be a teacher when I grew up.”

A smile makes its way to Eren’s face as he pictures you surrounded by kids eager to learn.

“Yeah?”

You nod, a hint of nostalgia and childlike glee shimmering in your eyes.

“Why didn’t you?”

A heavy sigh slumps your shoulders.

“Well, for starters, I’d need a degree.”

Brows furrowed, you chew on the inside of your cheek as you contemplate what’s lost. “I only have a GED.”

Eren feels a puncturing sensation as his heart deflates.

“You could still go back to school,” he suggests. “You’re young, you have time.”

It’s nothing you haven’t thought of before, but his words are comforting nonetheless. But you shake your head.

“No. I think the itch has passed, anyway. Besides, I’m happy now just to get by even if I never pictured myself as an office manager.”

Eren nods in understanding.

“Wait, so you didn’t go to high school?”

“I dropped out halfway through freshman year,” you explain. “Things at home weren’t going so well, so I just… had to.”

“So, you started working?”

You nod.

“Yeah. I was fifteen so I picked up as many odd jobs as I could.”

Eren looks up at you in awe.

“And you still found the time to study for your GED. That’s amazing,” he gushes.

A shy gust of air blows through your nose.

“I had some help, so I didn’t struggle too much.”

Eren tilts his head in curiosity. Maybe there was a time when your mom got better enough to help you study.

“Your mom?” he asks.

Your shoulders stiffen and you start blinking nervously.

“Um… no.”

You look down at your lap, where you nervously pick at your cuticles in an attempt to ground yourself. Eren watches you closely.

“I um… one of my old high school teachers took me in for a while. He helped me prepare for the test.”

Eren purses his lips, confused as to why you seem so uneasy about it. Maybe you’re embarrassed by the fact that you had to search for help outside of your home, but that’s nothing to stress over. In fact, he’s relieved you had someone to lean on during such tough times.

“He sounds like a nice guy,” he murmurs.

“I guess,” you whisper so softly it barely reaches his ears.

“Have you kept in touch with him after moving here?”

A ghostly ‘no’ makes its way past your lips.

Eren sits up straight, an uneasy feeling nudging at the pit of his stomach. He lowers his head so he can get a view of your face. Your eyes seem dead, all glassiness vanishes as you stare at a blank point.

“Hey, you okay?”

His voice draws your attention. You look back at him, eyes wide and lips parted to take in hushed shallow breaths. Eren’s eyebrows upturn in concern. Little by little, the longer you look at him, your features soften, your shoulders relax, your eyes come back to life, and your breathing steadies.

“You wanna punch me in the face?” he offers.

“No,” you murmur back, eyes twinkling with amusement. “But can we stop for now?”

He smiles and nods.

“Give me your hand.”

“Why?” you ask, but give in to his direction anyway.

“Because,” he says as he presses your hand down against his chest, right above his heart. “I want to kiss you, and I don’t want you to freak out on me like last time.”

Though you know he’s teasing, embarrassment creeps up your neck at the memory, anyway. Still, you gently stroke his chest with your thumb, relieved to feel his heartbeat on your fingertips.

“It’s not like I’ll freak out each time,” you mumble, breath shortening as he dips his head forward to brush your nose with his.

“Just in case, then,” he whispers, his breath tickling your upper lip.

He tilts his head as he closes the gap between you. At a hair's distance, he whispers a teasing ‘deep breath’, swallowing your laughter immediately after.

His lips gently caress yours, slowly, with calculated strokes that make you sigh into his mouth. Any lingering trace of stiff muscles and chest pain is gradually ridden by his soft affections. The hand that keeps you holding onto his heart is warm and strong, giving you a light squeeze as his heart rate picks up with the pure ecstasy that comes with kissing you.

He pulls back, just enough to grant you room to breathe.

“You okay?” he whispers.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not feeling lightheaded or anything?”

You giggle against his lips.

“No.”

“Lucky.”

He captures your lips once more as his free hand comes up to cradle your face and hold you closer. Your skin is warm to the touch, evidence of your timidness as you allow his tongue into your mouth to tease your own. Shivers run down your spine upon a single strained moan that bubbles from Eren’s throat as your tongues push and swirl against each other.

Despite the heated tone of Eren’s affections, you somehow feel at peace, taken care of, and safe. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears as his pounds against your fingertips in the same frantic manner. With the wind now dancing more aggressively around you as you feel yourself melt into his passionate kiss, this moment feels nothing short of poetic. It’s a mirror to the mayhem of incoherent ideas in your head — dizzying and beautiful, all at once.

With the hand that’s comfortably nestled into his chest, you push him back lightly but remain close enough for your shallow breaths to lace in the air with his.

“Eren,” you exhale.

“Hm?”

He pulls back to observe you better. Your lips are glossy with his saliva, reddened and swollen from his sweet assault. Your eyes twinkle as they stare into his affectionately. It’s an image worthy of committing to memory.

“Is it okay if we take things slow?”

Your voice is low, unsure. It looks as if you’re wary of his response — not out of fear, but rather out of genuine concern.

“Slow is good,” he murmurs, relieved.

“You sure?”

“I promise.”

If anything, Eren’s grateful to follow the pace you set. There’s nothing more addicting than having his lips on yours — and he undoubtedly wants more if he can handle the repercussions on his cardiac system — but if he can ease into it instead of putting his heart at risk, then best not to race into anything.

A gust of wind blows past you, picking up grains of sand in its wake as well as raising goosebumps on your skin.

“We should go. I don’t want you to get sick,” Eren says, voice firm and decisive.

He helps you get back on your feet and starts leading you back to the parking lot.

When you’re just about to reach the wooden planks, you nearly trip over a rock buried in the sand. Eren’s arm wraps around your waist to keep you from falling. As you regain your balance, he grabs onto your hand, lacing your fingers together while he fakes nonchalance through his blushing cheeks.

“Just in case,” he mutters.

He doesn’t let go until you reach his car.

Eren carefully pulls into a spot in the parking lot behind your apartment building. With a smile, he unbuckles his seatbelt and rounds the car to open your door.

Your hand meets his, comfortably slotting your fingers between his as if his hold has been tailored to accommodate you.

He glances at your locked hands and back at you, a small smile playing on his blushing face.

“Just in case,” you murmur.

You walk hand in hand to the main entrance and make your way to the elevator. You settle in, glancing at each other to exchange smiles.

“Do you think I’ll have any luck for a second date?”

You click your tongue, shaking your head in mock disappointment.

“Ah, you see, you just ruined it by asking.”

“Oh, shoot,” he groans, theatrically snapping his fingers. “Well, what can you do, am I right?”

With a shake of your head, you smile.

The elevator dings on the third floor and you make your way down the hall toward your apartment door. The short journey brings back memories of the previous night, or rather what occurred just some hours ago. It all seems so foreign now as if the last time Eren watched you unlock your door was ages ago — as if your new reality has been going on for more than a single day. The couple facing each other as they struggle to bid each other goodbye is completely different from the two shy people who shared a kiss at a bar.

“Thank you for today, Eren,” you murmur as you step forward to place a hand on his chest, in your designated spot.

Humans need to go through the motions an average of twenty-eight times to build a habit, but it’s no surprise that holding his heartbeat in your hand has turned into one much more easily with all the warm feelings it awakes inside you.

You blink up at him, hoping he’ll take the hint. The corners of your lips tug upwards when he dips forward, aiding you in closing the distance between you.

“My pleasure,” he murmurs, gazing affectionately into your eyes.

His free hand reaches your face, cradling it softly and stroking your cheek with his thumb as you lean into his touch.

“I think you’re a shoo-in for a second date, by the way.”

“You must not have many prospects in your agenda, then,” he teases, recalling your sarcasm from the night before.

“No, I do,” you reply with an air of arrogance. “But there’s only one I like,” you whisper as his nose brushes against yours.

“I hope it’s me, otherwise this entire afternoon has been very misleading,” he grins.

In response, you press your lips against his in one swift peck which he takes the reins on converting to a proper kiss goodbye one breath later.

Slowly, gently, warmly. Very fitting for a guy like him to kiss.

“I’ll start making date plans as soon as I get home,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Don’t be too long, please.”

He chuckles softly.

“I won’t.”

The warmth on the side of your face fades, leaving you to feel empty from the lack of his touch as his hand falls to his side.

“I’ll see you soon,” he grins, stepping away further as he waves you goodbye.

“Bye, Eren,” you smile, watching him turn around and head to the elevator.

You perk up at a sudden reminder, and his name bounces off your tongue instinctively.

He turns around, his boyish grin still playing on his lips from your goodbyes.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll tell you everything one day. I promise.”

His eyes light up at your words while yours shimmer with hope and sincerity.

“Take your time. I’m here for the long haul.”

Once you shut the door behind you, you bring a hand to your heart, an echo of a smile still lingering on your features as Eren’s words ring in your head.

You slip out of your boots, changing into slippers to be more comfortable.

With the press of a button on your remote, the TV blinks to life, the evening news serving as background while you fix yourself a cup of tea in your kitchen. The reporter’s words are mostly lost on you as you still struggle to ground yourself from the high of a perfect first date.

It’s not until the words woman found dead reach your ears, that you abruptly crash down to earth and rush to turn up the volume.

With a fearful glassiness coating your eyes, you stare at the television screen as the details of a new murder are disclosed. Despite your undivided attention set on the news, you only manage to grasp a few relevant words. Slash, neck, dumpster, twenty-three, suspicion of rape. The blood drains from your face and your mind goes completely blank when it’s revealed that the victim was last seen attending a Halloween event at a bar last night — the very same bar you were at last night with your friends.

The kettle on the stove screeches for your attention moments after the news is replaced by a less tragic one, but it takes you much longer to find the strength to stand.

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taglist: @erenjaegerwifee @youatemylollipop @okaystopwhore

#eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #eren jaeger fanfiction #eren jaeger fluff #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager x you #aot x reader #aot x y/n #snk x reader

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minustwofingers · 2 years ago

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i need to tell you something

pairing: ellie williams x reader (no pronouns used for reader)

summary: you muster up the guts to confess to your best friend when she gets bit, but things go an unanticipated direction when she has a confession of her own

warnings: violence, ANGST!, swearing, painful yearning, ellie was low key maybe not the best gf to cat (???)

a/n: yeahhhh so i just wrote this rq. the poll is irrelevant now bc i'm posting this anyway. sorry that it's not enemies to lovers!! i thought best friends was calling for me to write it instead. physics tutor au may be more aligned w that kinda vibe. anyway enjoy x

wc: 1.9k

tags: (so sorry if i missed anyone, i'm being a little bad about adding tagged stuff but i promise exoplanet will have updated tags!)

@intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower

It happened so fast. One moment, you and your best friend were goofing off and joking around as you checked one of the abandoned cottages in the outskirts of the woods. You were pretending not to notice the way that your shoulders brushed as you went through the doorway, pretending like you didn’t yearn for a touch from her that was for once intentional.

The next, you were lying on the ground next to the same best friend, swallowing back the scream in your throat as you stared at the fresh bite mark on her shoulder.

The air smelled of damp wood and blood, the decrepit sitting room of the cottage dark and sheltered from the sun outside.

It was sunny outside. The world was cruel like that. You’d never be able to see the sun again without thinking about losing Ellie.

You’d thought you’d checked everywhere. You were sure of it. But then when you were goofing off trying to raid the cabinets and steal some extra CDs that you two could watch together later, you heard Ellie’s shriek and a crash.

It was the worst sound you’d ever heard in your life. Your vision went red as you saw the bedraggled, barely-human figure of a stalker crouch over her, digging its disgusting hands into her skin and snapping at her. You fired off 5 shots in succession, not stopping until it was limp.

Even while you were dragging it off her, praying to any God that might’ve been up there that she hadn’t been bitten by that thing, you were still hoping that maybe you’d been quick enough. Maybe you’d been fast enough, smart enough, strong enough to save her.

You knew it had been a pipe dream. You knew, but the sight of the blood pearling at her freckled skin in the shape of a mouth and her torn shirt still made you gasp in horror and drop to the floor next to her.

“No. No, no, no, no.” For some reason that was the only word you could bring yourself to say.

She was panting, her chest rising and falling with exertion from the fight.

Or maybe she was turning. It was a shoulder bite, after all. Those didn’t take long.

“I’m so, so, sorry.” Your hands found her face and cupped her jaw, letting your eyes meet hers.

“Y/N, wait—”

“I should have seen it,” you continued, shaking your head. “This is my fault. I’m so sorry. It should’ve been me. You don’t deserve this. I’m not going to leave you.”

As you spoke, tears slid down your face, blurring your vision until Ellie looked fuzzy.

Her hands wrapped around yours, pulling them from her face and intertwining your fingers as she laid them in her lap. “No, Y/N, don’t—”

“I can’t go on without you,” you said between choked sobs. “I won’t do it.”

The warm sun coming in through the window pane above you felt like a nasty joke. The golden light lit the back of Ellie’s head, reflecting off of her auburn hair like a halo. She’d never looked more beautiful. And she never would again.

“I need to tell you some–”

“Wait,” you interrupted, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping her hands tighter. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you go in a minute. I just—I need to tell you something too, okay? Before…before…”

You hiccuped and tried to shrug your shoulder to your cheek to catch the waterfall of tears and snot on your face.

“You’re freaking me out,” Ellie complained, resting her head against the wall and sending you a weak smile.

Her casualness, her fearlessness, her overall Ellie-ness made you nearly crack again, but you had to keep it together. You had to get this out. She couldn’t leave without hearing this.

“Listen,” you began, your voice wavering, “I, uh…I don’t know how to say this. I’m sorry if this isn’t something you want to hear. Oh, god, actually, this is really selfish of me. Nevermind.”

Because it was. These were the last few moments of Ellie’s life, and you were making it all about you. She didn’t see you like that, that much was clear. You’d once thought otherwise—but that was before Cat, before you saw her smile the same way with her and let Cat kiss her in front of everyone whenever you saw them around your friends.

So maybe it would be better if you just didn’t say anything. That way she wouldn’t look back on your memories together as creepy.

Ellie swallowed, then discreetly cast her gaze down to her right arm, just for a moment. “You can tell me anything, you know. You always could.”

The words brought a renewed wave of tears to your eyes, and you did your best to valiantly fight off the lump in your throat long enough to get the words out.

You supposed that if she was asking for it, she deserved to know the truth.

“Look, I—I really—” The words died in your throat.

Ellie was still and quiet, patiently waiting for you to finish and letting you hold her hands in a vice grip. She was always like that—so stoic and strong.

“I don’t know how to say this,” you repeated, turning your gaze back to your tangled fingers. “I don’t want to ruin the way you remember our friendship.”

“You couldn’t do that if you tried,” said Ellie, her lips pulling up. “I like you too much.”

It was stuff like that that made you want to rip your hair out and scream into your pillow.

I like you too much.

Just when you thought life couldn’t get any crueler, the purgatory of queer yearning always had a funny way of proving you wrong.

“I don’t want to keep lying to you.” Your voice wavered as you looked anywhere but her face. “I’ll always see you as a friend. I know that’s what I am to you. And I promise I wasn’t, like, being gross about this when we hung out.” The past tense made your stomach churn. Hung out. You’d never get to spend time again with her after this. Speed it up, Y/N. You’re running on borrowed time. “That’s to say that I really do love being friends with you. I always have. It’s just that—”

This had to be the most painful confession in the history of the world. Maybe you should just ask Ellie to bite you to put you out of your misery.

“I’ve always wanted more with you,” you forced out. “Like—more than friends. Ever since I met you.”

Ellie was suspiciously quiet for so long that you began to worry that she was already turned. You dared to peek up at her through your lashes.

She blinked twice in rapid succession upon meeting your eyes, her face otherwise void of emotion.

“I need to confess something too,” she said slowly, her voice significantly more even than you’d expect for someone preparing for their death.

If she was going to say that she felt the same way, you weren’t sure how you’d ever get over this.

“I’m immune.”

Oh.

“What?”

Then she laughed at you—actually laughed at you, her eyes crinkling.

“I’m immune,” she repeated, her lips stretched into a wide smile. “I was trying to tell you—but god forbid you let me finish anything I want to say—”

You tried to snatch your hands away from where they were entwined with hers in her lap, but her fingers refused to let up. “How do you even know that?!” She had to be lying.

“Because I’ve been bitten before,” she said. Her eyes were sparkling with mirth. “Twice, actually. And that was years ago. And look at it. It doesn’t look like other bites, right?”

You reluctantly gave it a closer look. True to her word, the tell-tale growths of the Cordyceps were nowhere to be seen, something unheard of for a bite so close to the head after a few minutes.

It was the real deal. She really wasn’t going to turn.

You never knew it was possible to feel this mortified.

“You’re such an asshole,” you snapped, finally succeeding in freeing your hands and pushing yourself away so you weren’t touching her. “You barely even tried to tell me. You let me embarrass myself.”

She shrugged, amusement still pulling at her mouth. “I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to hear what you had to say.”

“Well, that was very impolite of you.” You crossed your arms and looked away from her, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Just forget I said anything, okay?”

“Hey.”

There was a hand at your elbow, pulling you so you slid across the hardwood until your knees knocked together.

“Look at me,” said Ellie. Her voice was soft, almost gentle. You rarely ever heard her like this.

When you didn’t comply, the hand that wasn’t at your arm came to your chin, tilting it so she could see your face.

Ellie was still smiling, but there was something else in her eyes—something that wasn’t just amusement,

“It’s the same for me,” she said. Her skin was warm against yours. “Ever since I met you.”

Your heart stopped. “What? But what about Cat?”

She shrugged. “I didn’t think you saw me like that. I thought seeing other people would help.”

“And did it?”

Ellie winced. “Obviously not.”

“Poor Cat.” You weren’t sure how else to respond.

“Poor Cat,” Ellie agreed.

Shyly, your hand came up to brush back the piece of hair that had escaped from her bun, letting your fingers rest on the back of her neck.

You’d never touched her there before. You’d never had an excuse to touch her intentionally. Doing so felt almost criminal, like you were breaking some sort of unspeakable barrier.

But then she pulled you in and kissed you, and you forgot all about arbitrary rules and the now antiquated platonic label that defined you two.

It lasted for just a moment, her lips brushing against yours as you leaned into her, your fingers tangling into her hair. The gentle warmth of the sun hit your hand, and you twisted it so your forearm lay flat against her.

It was a mistake. Ellie cried out, startling you as you wrenched away from her. There was something warm and wet on your arm—which, upon further investigation, was the blood from the bite you’d accidentally pressed into as you maneuvered your hand.

“Shit,” you said. You’d totally forgotten that she’d still been injured regardless of her immunity. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ellie said, though you could tell she was hiding the pain. “Sorry. It didn’t hurt that much.”

“Let’s go back,” you said, standing up as you held out a hand. “We’ll get that cleaned up.”

You’d been worried that kissing her would change things. Maybe she’d decide that she didn’t actually want you after all and that she didn’t even want to be friends.

But once she’d grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together as you both walked down the road back to Jackson, you found that there was nothing to worry about. Not anymore.

final a/n: im gonna be so real and say i love the premise of this but this was a littleeee bit of a flop in my book i didn't know how to end it but i hope you all enjoy this as a way to hold you over while i finish p5!

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams x oc #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine

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ghoularaki · 10 months ago

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baby's breath | 5

↠ summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 4,790

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, water torture, drowning, emotional/physical abuse. NSFW (noncon, knifeplay, bondage, orgasm denial, no aftercare)

You shivered.

Levi had enough decency to graciously leave your pajamas alone. Not that they left much to the imagination and the water dripping off you only exposed you more. From your kneeling position, the man seemed almost endless. The sun behind him cast him in shadow like the night before. Given the circumstances, you could almost call him angelic. A halo of sunlight, a ring around his inky hair that shimmered.

God like in his stature, you’re to be left at his mercy.

The constant dripping of the water coming off the tip of the hose grated your ears. At the end of the hose was a high pressure nozzle with multiple settings. His thumb subtly flipped to the next setting with a click, click. Your body tensed in apprehension, back coiled tight.

“You’re lucky Erwin likes you.”

Both his face and voice were bored. As if torturing you was a chore and not something he indulged in. Despite his words, his eyes gleamed and sparked. Likened to flint hitting steel.

“Because if I had it my way, you would have been meat gifted to the neighbor’s dog,” He brought the nozzle up to his face, staring at it before glancing back at you, “This will have to do.”

“Fuck you,” You weakly spat, voice jittering at the end.

“We’ll get to that.”

You did not like what that entailed. Not like you could be too shocked with the fiasco he pulled at the dinner table. Levi wanted to break you down until nothing of you was left.

His voice pulled you from your thoughts, “We can do this the easy or hard way. Apologize.”

You scoffed at him, “Apologize? Apologize to the fucking bastards-”

Freezing cold water shot up into your nose and into your open mouth. You sputtered once more as Levi was merciless with directing the stream of water right into your face. Your hands begged to shoot out in front of you, to block the assault, but you could only pathetically squirm.

The stream was clicked off. Heaving over, your forehead hit the cement as you gasped for air, snot and drool poured from your orifices.

“Apologize.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to regroup yourself, but Levi stepped closer. Water filled your nostrils once more and you choked and gargled. The pain of liquid going up into your sinuses burned and stung at your eyes. You sucked in your lips to keep the water from going in your mouth and down into your lungs. It offered little help.

The stream hit harder, pelting you. Levi didn’t stop even as you tried to crawl away. It was getting hard to breathe. Fuck, you couldn’t breathe. Panic washed over you, your body shaking and going into overdrive.

“Stop!” You attempted to say, but the water only invaded more of your body.

He stopped. You flopped over to your side, already exhausted. How could you be so weak? Your chest rapidly expanded and concaved. Vision blurry, his form approached you to lift your head up from the ground with a firm grip on your hair.

“Apologize.”

His eyes swallowed you whole. You had to fight, at least for a little longer. Call it stubbornness or stupidity, but you refused to roll over.

“N-no.”

Levi dropped you instantly. Unable to catch yourself, your temple smacked against the concrete. If your head wasn’t swimming enough, it sure was now. Elegantly, he straightened his back and loomed over you properly.

Like he was offended you would dare glare up at him, he sprayed the water at you once more. In your laying position, the ability to crawl away became harder. Desperate for oxygen you rapidly turn your body over, the harsh stream now hitting your back.

“Squirmy little mutt.” You swore you heard Levi mutter over the whooshing hose.

A boot clad foot anchored itself on your hip and turn you back over. He sprayed it right into your face, your back arched with your hands firm against your spine. As your feet scrambled to push yourself from his grip, he dug his heel further into the bone until you screamed. If he applied just a little more pressure your hip would pop out of place. Bruises surely were already forming. The kind that’s beneath skin and muscles ache cruelly.

More water entered your agape mouth. You coughed off the liquid only for it to bubble back into the same orifice along with the constant stream. Your lungs were soggy and expanded.

Feet uselessly kicking, Levi clicked the water off once more.

Instinctively you coughed the water out from your chest. Tilting your head to the side to avoid the same misfortune before, you gazed further into the backyard. From here the woods stretched far, too far for the neighbors to see.

With the tip of his shoe, Levi tilted your face back towards him. “Oi, brat, did I kill you already?”

Blankly, you moved your eyes to his. The movement was enough of an answer for him.

Under his stare, you shivered and your teeth clattered. With the summer sun blaring down on you, you would think you would welcome the cold water, but it only pierced your skin. Nothing was refreshing about the way he took away your right to breathe over and over.

“Apologize.”

From the loss of oxygen to your brain and your skull bouncing off the concrete, his words barely processed. All you could hear was your own rugged inhales. Blood pumped in your ears as you pinched your eyebrows.

Taking your sluggish movement as defiance, he continued his torture once more. Clamping your mouth shut, the water hit your nostrils for the umpteenth time in a row. The burn and sting cracked your resolve. You were dying or at least getting close to it.

And you refused to die by the hands of such a disgusting man like him.

Turning your head to the side, you screamed, “I’m sorry!”

Warmth. The water stopped: hopefully for good. With a jittering jaw, you repeated yourself with a softer tone. Creaking your neck back up to Levi, you said it for a third time.

“Tch.”

He offered no response to your plea masked as an apology. When he raised the hose again, you yelped and scrambled, trying to get back into the kneeling position.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Levi quickly quelled your panicking by tugging the hose and wrapping the tubing between his hand and under his elbow, looping it round and round while walking towards the rack. A few paces away from your sniveling form, he neatly laid it down and screwed off the valve, completely turning the water off.

Gracefully, he made his way back to you. Able to get into a proper kneeling position, you looked up at him. You must be a mess. Snot and drool slipping down your puffy lips, eyes bloodshot. As he did earlier, he peered down at you from under his nose.

Silence swarmed you.

Both of you were like animals waiting for the other to strike. Him the predator and you the prey, but even sometimes a mouse will strike back. Though, as your shoulders heaved, you had no fight left in you. For now.

Sensing this, Levi crouched down to your level. With a patient hand he reached towards your face. You flinched back in fear. The alarm bells of what said hand did mere moments ago blared in your brain. To your surprise, he gently wiped the snotted pooling on your cupid’s bow.

“What a mess.”

Cupping your cheek, you leaned into the warmth of his palm. Later you can chastise yourself for being weak, but right now all the energy in your body was sapped out of you. Your head heavy, you rested your weight into him. Again, his thumb wiped under your eye to get rid of the residue of his making.

Eyes slipped shut, you embraced the calm. Your skin prickled as his irises pierced into you, but you kept yourself ignorant. Lulled by his digit that carassed your cheekbone, your body collapsed.

Or it would have if his hand didn’t slither its way to your nape.

Screaming out in agony, your hands jerk to relieve the pain on your scalp. The chain jiggled in a mocking tone, as you peer up at Levi. Hand wrapped firmly in your hair, his knees cracked as he nimbly got back up to his feet. Bound, there was no way for you to comfortably accommodate him dragging you by your hair.

“Stop it!” Hiccuping hurt your chest.

He said nothing as he lugged you through the yard. More pleas fell from your mouth, varying in pitch. Perfectly cut and watered grass scraped against your skin. The blades pricked at you.

From under you, your feet pathetically kicked. You attempted to twist your body out of his grasp, but it only put more pressure onto your burning scalp. As much as it pained you, it would hurt less to cease fighting. You have no clue how much more your body could take.

With the angle all you could see was the bright blue skies above you. The merry color mocked you. With a thud, Levi dropped your body onto the ground. The wind was knocked out of you as you landed harshly on your back and therefore your hands. Luckily, your fingers were tucked away into a fist or else surely you would have broken one.

Coughing, you turn on your side to see where Levi stopped at. In the ground were two red, metal doors. He gripped the two handles and ripped them open with little effort. Leading down into the dark were a set of concrete stairs.

Going back to you, he leaned back down to grab your hair but you screamed once more.

“G-get away from me! Don’t touch me, you fucking freak.”

Levi grabbed you by the arm and forced you up, now kneeling where he had been to open the heavy doors.

He sneered, “As you wish.”

Dropping your arm, he offered you little relief before shoving his foot into your side and kicking you down the stairs. A gasp stuck in your throat as your body flew down the stairs like a ragdoll. The rough material scratched your exposed skin. Your shoulders took the brunt of your fall. Landing at the bottom, your head smacked against the hard ground. The wound on your temple reopened, mixing with the blood dribbling from the back of your head.

Discombobulated, your eyes dragged to Levi standing at the top of the stairway. For a moment, you thought he was going to shut the doors and leave you here to rot, but his form got closer and closer. His feet smacked against the concrete. It could be your vision or throbbing head, but you swore the basement shook with every step he took.

He stopped midway, to turn and shut the rusted doors. They closed with a resonating screech and rattle. With a boom, you were wrapped in darkness once more. In the black, Levi's presence swarmed you. Every sound he made amplified.

Step, step, step, step.

Thin metal scraping together pierced your ears before a light buzzed on. Squinting one eye, a dangling lightbulb flicked on. Releasing the tiny, metal chain, it swung in the air.

Around you was a normal basement. To the right, a work bench sat along with welding tools, a cutting table for wood, and a portable, steel set of drawers. On the other side was a lawnmower, weedwacker and a bunch of old furniture. A little further away stood a door. Must be the way into the main part of the house.

A musk clung to the air. A type of musk that sunk deep into the concrete walls, thick with moisture from being underground. Wrinkling your nose, you kept Levi in your sight. While you were observing your surroundings he had spawned right next to you.

“Don’t run.”

You wanted to laugh. How could you with the state you were in? Even if freed from your restraints, you don’t think you could stand up straight. Him justling you to sit on your butt was enough to trigger your gag reflex. Biting your tongue, you will down the urge to vomit.

Reaching behind you, Levi unfurled your bindings behind your back. Sagging in relief, without thought you leaned your forehead against his shoulder. He tensed for a moment, but offered nothing more than that.

Fuck, you were more spent than you thought.

The leather cuffs fell to the floor with a clunk. Next he went to your legs. Repeating the same motion of pulling the belts away from each other, you were freed.

Levi bent over to grab both cuffs. Wrapping an arm around your lower back, he hauled you over his shoulder. You wanted to protest, but the second hit to your head had done you in. The same arm that hauled you over, he kept tight around your thighs in case you squirmed. Him knowing it would only take one arm to pin you down was insulting.

His other hand he let dangle as he clutched onto the restraints. Levi could never leave anything untidy. He crossed the room towards the door you were eyeing. You crumpled further with the knowledge your punishment was over.

Or at least you hoped.

Upon opening the door, you were sadly mistaken. From your limited view point, there were no stairs leading you upwards into the house. Beneath you was a hardwood floor, a deeper hue than any other flooring in the house.

Levi’s shoes thumped against the ground as you tried to survey more of your surroundings. The room was dim, a soft lighting that would put you to sleep if under different circumstances. Tilting your head, through the bobbing there lined on the walls, dangling from black metal framing were an array of whips, canes and floggers.

In the middle of the room was a leather spanking bench that could fold in or out into a different shape. Off to the side sat a metal table, almost clashing with the rest of the room, with leather cuffs at the corners. Across the way, a rose velvet couch placed for what you could assume could be simply viewing pleasure. A hook hung from the wall. There was another door right in between the metal framing, slight ajar showcasing more restraints and ropes.

A fear never before bloomed inside you. He couldn’t be serious? What type of shit were these freaks into. You only got here, he couldn’t be actually thinking of punishing you like this. You thought this was over.

Whimpering, you kicked up a fuss, squirming on his shoulder. Knowing, your tantrum was coming, Levi clutched further onto your thigh. His heavy hand bruised the skin.

“Knock it off,” Levi sneered.

“W-what are you doing? I don’t like this, I’m scared.” You hoped making yourself smaller would appease him.

“You should be.”

Levi flung you onto the sliver, metal table, laying you on it horizontally so your head dangled off the edge. Your back arched at the cold biting your exposed skin. Quickly, you launched yourself to the side to crawl off the surface. Wrangling you back into place, he grabbed your right wrist and stretched to the cuff at the far end.

“Get off me, you prick!”

“Quiet,” He snapped and grunted when you went to knee him in the stomach. “Do you have a death wish?”

You ignored him to keep growling like a cornered, feral cat. Lifting his own knee up, Levi pinned your kicking leg down. The bone dug into your inner thigh. With aggravating dexterity, your wrist was shackled to the table. His head imposingly close to yours. Goosebumps fluttered on your neck from his heavy breath against it. Your left hand still free, you stupidly hit him repeatedly to the side of the head. Desperate to get him away from you and you out of this room.

He took it in stride like wrangling a wayward child. You hissed when the restraint pinched your skin with how tight he pulled it. Free of this task, Levi turned his side so his nose brushed against your cheekbone. As you went to hit him again, he clutched your hand mid air, lidded gaze on yours.

“I’m going to swallow you whole until nothing is left of you besides me.”

Dragging his nose up until it touched yours, he never let his eyes stray. Your chest heaved, the hand engulfed by his, struggled to escape.

“I hope you fucking choke.”

Your head whipped to the right at Levi’s knuckles hitting your cheek. Blood pooled in your mouth from the split lip. Turning back towards him with breakneck speed, you spit in his face. The pinky saliva landed right under his eye. He flinched back slightly with flared nostrils.

Upper lip twitching back in a restrained snarl, Levi wiped the bloody spit off his face and continued tying up your other arm. The leather whistled with how fast he tightened it. You grunted at it cutting off your circulation.

Clutching your jaw, he forced your head up even higher, straining your neck and shoulders, “You don’t get to complain, Bitch. I hear another peep out of you and I’ll beat you bloody.”

At that, he departed from your body and stomped off further into the room. You shake out your leg, already sore and bruises forming. Letting your body loose, your toes brush against the floor and your head lulls backwards. The blood rushed to your brain as you watched Levi swing the closet door further open, the whole room upside down. This definitely didn’t help your concussion, but that’s the least of your problems.

Blurrily you watched Levi come back to you, kicking the door shut with his foot. In his hands were black rope and something you couldn’t decipher. Apprehension squeezed your chest so hard, the tendons throbbed. Ignoring you, he unraveled the rope—the other he placed next to you on the table along with the mystery item—looping it around the metal ring right under where the cuff hung.

Silently, he grabbed your leg and stretched it out so he could wrap the rope around just above your knee. You twisted your body to kick Levi in the head, but he stopped with a firm grip on your ankle.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself.” His calm tone struck more terror in you than his gritted gripes. A passive Levi meant a scheming Levi.

Deep inside you wanted to try again, knock him out and release yourself of your binds. Yet you know you were no match for this man. So with a sniveling expression, you let your leg slack in his hold. He let you down and continued his intricate knots.

He moved the rope down your thigh, close to your groin and looped it three times. Your leg was bent so he could tie your ankle firmly to your thigh, unable to close yourself off to him. Three times it went, the velvety fabric digging into the supple flesh. The rest of the coiled fibers were tugged to the other corner securely.

Once done, the man tugged at his binds. Giving a nod, satisfied at his work. He repeated the motions with your other leg, your muscles stretched beyond their capabilities. Oh how you wanted to whimper and groan.

Completely at his mercy did you realize your ass hung slightly over the edge, at perfect distance for Levi’s crotch to line up with yours. You bit your lip so hard, blood pooled, terrified. You would rather deal with being drowned again than this. Anything but this.

Coming closer to you, Levi deposited his bulge against your vulnerable crotch. The way his cock hardened, mocking you. Reaching over, he swiped the unknown item in front of you.

A knife.

He had taken a knife from the closet. Instinct consumed your nervous system as you squirmed at your restraints. You whipped your head to your right cuff and tugged. Frantically you looked to the other in hopes this one could be looser. You then look at Levi with bouncing pupils.

“Please.”

A flick of a knife popping open was your response.

“Levi, please!” Your voice pitched into hysterics, but quickly stopped when he shoved the flat side of it in your open mouth.

Tugged the skin further out, your tongue retreated as further back as it could. The muscles tingled at the phantom sensation of being pricked.

“Look at you,” A hand larger and warmer than yours splayed across your chest. The slender fingers drummed to the rhythm of your heartbeat. Taunting you. “A sniveling, little puppy.”

He let you bask in your fear for one more moment before retracting the blade from your mouth. Drool dripped down from your lip.

“Messy,” He teased with no emotion.

Dragging the knife down the path of the drool, he trailed the end from your chin, to underneath it and down the curved line of your neck. Shivers wracked through your taut body. Further it traveled over your collarbone and to the strap of your shirt.

Tucking the sharp edge under the flimsy fabric, he barely tugged and it came undone. Dragging to the other side, he cut it off as well. The procedure was simply to antagonize you. You both knew he could easily rip the thin, damp fabric into pieces, but he wanted the anticipation. He craved and drank up how your body trembled for him. The man loved playing with his food.

Going back to the middle, he tugged the knife down the middle, slicing right through the shirt. Tugging the ruined clothes away, your torso left on display for him. Your nipples puckered at the exposed, cool air (along with being scared shitless).

Cruelly, he tapped the flat of the knife against your clothed slit, backing away from you to finish unwrapping his present. You flinched when the knife nicked your thigh as he cut away the chiffon shorts, taking your panties with it. The other side swiftly cut in half, too. Same with your shirt, your bottoms were tugged away from you and tucked somewhere else.

You were left bare for the man before you, towering over you once more. Your focus stayed on the knife. Levi clicked the knife closed and left it out where you could reach it. Not like you could grab it, anyway. The state of your undress was disproportionate to Levi’s fully clothed body.

Now free of any obstacles, the man slotted his body against yours again. His hand wandered to your breasts and thumbed the sensitive skin. A tingly shock of pleasure shot down to your core. Your body welcomed the soft touches after the grueling torment. Though, your brain screamed for him to leave you be.

“I like you like this,” His hand traveled down to your stomach, eyeing how it jumped, “belly up, submissive, pliant.”

Finally, a whimper broke loose.

Those silver irises bounced up at you. He said nothing to your noises, if anything he welcomed it. You would be screaming soon enough.

Impatient to start and to finish your punishment, the man lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the ever growing pile. He dropped his pants as well, no underwear under his slacks.

Tilting down your chin, your eyes widen at his cock. He wasn’t huge, but his size wasn’t anything to scoff at. What he lost in length, he made up in girth. The head slightly bigger, a deep red and drooling with pre-cum. Levi was also well groomed, not bare, but the hair trimmed close to the skin.

His physique could be god-like. You knew the man had muscles rippled through him, but not to this extent. He obviously worked out and trained his body as every inch the muscles flexed under his pale flesh. A dark happy trail led down to his cock.

Wandering downwards, his fingertips dipped in to brush against your clit. Your hips jumped.

“Sensitive.”

“Fuck you,” You spoke through bared teeth.

A yelp escaped. He slapped your pussy with little regard for you. When you squirmed away, he did it again, hitting right on your clit.

“You either moan or keep your shitty mouth shut.”

Scowling, you reluctantly obeyed. He hummed, soothed. For now. Going back to his previous action, his middle finger swirled against your clit. The nerves were swollen. Sensitive from his slaps. Your thighs twitched, begging to close. So confused on whether or not to welcome the pleasure.

A soft moan hung in the air. You weren’t supposed to enjoy this, but you were also scared of kicking up a fuss. The thought of him tearing into your pussy with no prep horrified you. You can fight another day, another time where it’s smart to.

Skillfully, Levi drifted down to your hole and pushed a finger in. A more drawn out moan came from your throat. More antsy than before, Levi added another finger, eager to stretch you out. As he pumped in and out of you, more wetness dripped out of your cunt onto the floor.

Deeming you stretched enough, he departed from your core with squelch. Unwantingly, you let out a disappointed whine.

“I don’t want to hear it. You’re lucky I even prepped you, fucking bitch in heat.”

Cock in hand, Levi positioned it at your pussy. You tensed as he bullied his way into your tight hole. Fuck, he did not prepare you enough. Your hips tried to arch away, but a strong hand forced you back down. Popping the whole cockhead in, you whimpered in pain.

Using both his hand and hips, he went further in. Your walls forcefully stretched to accommodate him. Thrusting deep, Levi pressed himself to the hilt. The hair of his happy trail tickled your clit. It offered no help to being stretched open past your limitations.

With fervor, he pulled out of you until it was only his head inside and slammed back in you. A gasp caught in your throat. Moving his hands to the ropes around your thighs, he used them as reins to fuck deeper and harder.

No regard for your own pleasure, Levi kept fucking into you so his pelvis bone smooshed into your thighs. Great, even more bruises. With all the shaking, your head started to pound and your vision blur. Each pound into your aching pussy, grunts poured from his mouth.

Shifting his hips upwards, he hit the spongy spot deep inside of you, eliciting a breathy whimper. Glancing at you, Levi kept his hips at that angle. He went back to how his cock drove in and out of your cunt. Fascinated by it wrapping and stretching around his length. He wanted to morph your walls into the shape of it, completely break you down.

“F-fuck,” Levi groaned.

Using you nothing more than a cocksleeve and seeing you finally settle the fuck down pulled him towards his release. Jerking the reins tighter, the rope pinched your thighs. Mouth slightly agape, his rhythm became sloppy, no longer caring for bringing you any type of enjoyment out of this.

Shortly, he shoved his cock deep. You screeched as he pushed against your cervix, a shiver going up your spine at the pain. That did him in. Dropping his head, he moaned and shot his hot release deep inside you.

You panted alongside him, completely unsatisfied. Delirious, you whined with teary eyes at not cumming.

Glaring at you from under his brows, Levi bit, “Are you that stupid? You think after everything you pulled I would nice to you.” He grabbed your jaw and curled you further in, your shoulders creaking, “You’re nothing more than a pet, a dog for me to beat until Erwin eventually gets bored of you. For both of us, you better hope it's soon.”

Half comprehending what he said, tears poured down and your eyes lost their focus. Slipping out of you, the warm cum dripped from your aching cunny and onto the floor.

Levi walked away from you to what you assumed was to clean up. Lulling your head back, you looked at the room upside down, letting the blood rush to your brain. From your blackening view, Levi came back to you.

He muttered something, but it didn’t matter. The world spinning around you was too much fun. Slipping your eyes closed, you let the fuzzy feelings of your concussed head overtake you. You really hope you are concussed and you passing out prompts you never waking up in this nightmare again. For the both of you.

#yandere x reader #yandere levi #levi x reader #levi smut #yandere levi x reader #yandere erwin #erwin x reader #yandere aot #yandere male

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ageless-aislynn · 11 months ago

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Title: “15 Minutes” (8/?) Author: @ageless-aislynn Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: You've got work to do. John worries. Things get a little more intense. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating: T (PG13) Length: 1,945 (this chapter, 19,693 total so far) Spoilers/warnings: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N: Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Halo season 2 has finally arrived! However, this fic continues to zip along in the AU Party Warthog, so, while we began with season 1 way back when (and you'll see a few more things from s1 along the way 😉), we'll not be venturing into s2 territory at all. Unless s2 is going to take some verrrrry interesting twists, lol! Chapter 9 is still in progress by hand but I hope to have it ready soon. 🤞😣🤞The next chapter will also see us entering into some hurt/comfort for a bit but I tend to lean heavier on the comfort, in case you're worried. Or, you know, would be disappointed. 😉 If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger @mysardencut @laurenstacy610 @sporadicbelievernightmare @ultrablackwidower @bxmxtx @jellotherelol

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

The Troop Transport Warthog hit a particularly rough patch and you held on for all you were worth to keep from being ejected.

"Sarge," Private Taylor yelled. "Where are we?"

"That's need to know and none of you need to know, marine," Sarge shouted back from the passenger seat. "Just keep your head down, do your job, and you'll be home 15 minutes before your mama has breakfast on the table."

You couldn't particularly tell if it were dusk, dawn or high noon, the air was so heavy with the greasy remains of mortar rounds. In the distance, a nondescript cityscape occasionally flared with either continuing pockets of active combat or just the remnants of the devastation that had passed through.

Wherever you were, it felt like you were barreling at top speed through a graveyard of vehicles: Warthogs, Mongeese and even the odd Scorpion, some overturned, blackened and smoldering, others weirdly intact as if their drivers had merely stepped away for a moment.

This was a salvage and recovery mission, tasking your unit with marking vehicles as repairable, recyclable or a total loss to be abandoned.

The next hour or so, that had been your focus, moving from Warthogs and the occasional Mongoose, conducting a quick evaluation, then using your spray gun to mark a green circle on the hood to send back to Reach for repair, a white slash to send it to be stripped for usable parts or a red X to abandon, not worth salvaging.

You marked a Mongoose with a red X, though the gun sputtered and you had to give it a few whacks before it sprayed properly, then you moved on.

Next up was a Warthog that seemed in decent condition from the outside, short of the rear antenna twisted until it resembled a curly tail. But the electronics were fried and the entire undercarriage looked like it had plowed over a series of flaming spikes, all major parts gouged out and burned. There might have been a few nuts and bolts reclaimable but since you'd just recently been writing up requisition for needed parts, you judged that it was more effort than it was worth.

You made the call to abandon it but as you tried to spray the red X across the hood, nothing emerged, even after shaking the sprayer and giving it a few more hits with the heel of your palm. With a slightly frustrated noise -- who was checking to make sure that the sprayers were in working order before they were sent out? -- you headed to get a replacement. Along the way, you caught a private going in the opposite direction.

"Hey, see that 'hog there? Would you red X it for me? Thanks."

"Um, sure," the blond man said and headed where you gestured.

You were still looking for somebody who had a spare sprayer when Sarge drove up in the Troop Transport again.

"Wrap it up, it's about to get hot," he shouted.

You quickly joined the rush back to board the Pelican and scrambled into a seat just as it lifted off. A split-second after you'd clicked the restraint down, the Pelican rolled to one side, shuddering from an impact.

Alarms began blaring, mixed in with the pilot calling out coordinates, and you automatically tried to look forward, as if you'd somehow be able to spot what was shooting at you. All you could really see was the anxious faces of the other marines around you. You spared a couple of breaths to be glad that neither Maria or Jamie had been called in for this.

The Pelican took a second, more glancing blow and the resulting shudder rattled your teeth.

"Covvies?" somebody asked over the engine whine and the private across from you shrugged.

"Who else?" she said. "But that felt like surface-to-air to me. What about you?"

She met your eyes and it was your turn to shrug. "I'm not sure. Never been hit by any sort of missile before."

"Oh well, congratulations on your first missile salvo," she returned with a crooked grin.

The Pelican rolled once more, this time in an evasive maneuver, then thankfully smoothed out and made its escape without further incident.

Your unit was taken to the covert off-world depot known colloquially as The Pit, where everything that had been marked for repair or recycle would be delivered for further sorting. In the center of the large warehouse area was a compactor pit for all of the scrap to be sent into. Several cranes were already busy moving the smaller vehicles like Warthogs and Mongeese into berths to be stripped down while the still operational vehicles were lining up to be loaded onto heavy transport carriers to be returned to base.

You finished stripping your second Warthog for salvageable parts and signaled the nearest lift operator. The clawlike crane clamped onto the 'hog's shell, picking it up and carrying it towards the compactor while you moved on to a Mongoose with a crumpled left rear wheel.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a Warthog with a particularly distinctive twisted rear antenna being dropped off into the line to be loaded up and returned to FLEETCOM.

Frowning, you wove your way through the other mechanics, avoiding the occasional flying part, and found a green circle sprayed onto the hood.

Shit, the private must've heard me wrong when I told him to red X it. It seemed like an odd mistake to make but things had been hectic.

You grabbed a sprayer and neutralized the green and sprayed over it with a red X, then went to the nearest crane operator.

"You see that 'hog with the X on it? Drop it in the line for the compactor, please."

"Got it," the woman said and you waited until she'd picked it up and deposited it appropriately before you returned to work.

You were elbows into a Gauss 'hog's engine bay when you heard your rank and name called. Looking up, your heart gave a little skip: John in full helmeted Mjolnir strode your way with thundering steps you could hear even over the rest of the cacophony.

"With me," he said tersely, passing by and disappearing through a doorway at the back of the warehouse.

You had to hustle to catch up and he had already stopped by the time you joined him in the otherwise empty hallway. He turned, removing his helmet with a slight pneumatic hiss.

"Are you okay?" you both said at the same time.

The angle of the hallway meant you were shielded from most of the work floor. He set his helmet down and very carefully took your hands in his gloved ones.

"Insurgents took the field," he said, looking you over from head to toe. "Did you see combat? Intel was unclear."

"No, we got out but the Pelican took a few shots. Somebody said it felt like surface-to-air but I didn't remember Covenant using anything like that. It was insurgents, then?"

He nodded distractedly, glancing away to mutter, "I'll be right there." Then he looked back to you. "I have to go. Your unit's being sent back to Reach but if they divert you into combat..."

He trailed off, clearly realizing there was no way to finish that sentence the way he wanted.

"Tell them, nah, I'd rather not, thanks?" Your mouth twitched and you squeezed his fingers.

He gave a resigned chuckle. "Yeah, try that, please."

"You're the one who'll be much more in the thick of it," you pointed out. "You be careful, okay?"

"Always try," he said, bringing your hands up to press a kiss to the back of both.

Kai leaned around the door, her visor glinting green. "Chief, sorry but we've got to go."

"Copy that." He released you with clear reluctance and picked up his helmet. "Stay safe. I'll see you soon."

He vanished through the doorway and you took a breath, exhaling slowly. John suddenly appeared right in front of you again, leaning down to cup your face in one hand.

You were just about to ask if something was wrong when he kissed you.

For a moment, for forever, the universe shrank to just the two of you, his mouth on yours, a little frantic at first, then slowing, steadying out.

You felt like you were hovering off the ground and then realized you were; he'd picked you up at some point, pressing you gently to his chest plate. Your hand dropped to the 117 etched near his heart and it was gritty with sand and dirt. You were both grimy and sooty but it didn't matter. It couldn't have been more perfect if you were in a flowing ballgown and him in a tux, slowly spinning together on a glittering palace floor.

He set you back onto your feet but you only parted a breath away from each other.

"I... I'll get better with practice," he mumbled.

You smiled at him, feeling wobbly, lightheaded and more grounded than you'd ever been before, all at the same time. "John, if you were any better at that, I'd have to show you how fast I can get a Spartan out of their Mjolnir with my bare hands."

He was near enough to see his pupils dilate and that was incredibly gratifying. "I'll hold you to that," he said, his voice dropping an entire octave, making your toes literally curl inside your boots.

Then he put his helmet back on and left. You took a moment to compose yourself, then exited as well. There was no sign of Silver Team. No doubt, the Pelican waiting for him had taken off the second he'd boarded.

Cutting through the busy deck, you looked for any vehicle marked with a white stripe, still waiting to be stripped. On an impulse, you diverted to the line being dropped one at a time into the compactor. There was no sign of the curly tailed Warthog.

It could've already been compacted, you were thinking when you saw it going by overhead, clutched in a crane claw and heading back towards the line to return to Reach.

You didn't stop to think, you sprinted for the crane's operator booth. "Hey, put that 'hog down!"

The operator looked at you and you realized in a burst that it was the blond man you'd originally told to mark it with the red X back on the battlefield, who'd apparently designated it instead to come back to The Pit.

No, to go back to FLEETCOM.

Recognition went across his face at the same moment and he bolted from the booth. The lift automatically stopped, the Warthog swaying over the crowded deck.

You knew. You just knew.

You ran as fast as you could and slammed the alarm on the wall. "Bomb!" you bellowed over the shrill klaxon. "Bomb! Clear out!"

Jumping into the operator booth and grabbing the controls, you quickly scanned the area as marines scattered everywhere. There was only one place you could think to go.

You swung the arm around, guiding the curly tailed 'hog firmly clasped in its grip towards the compactor pit. It felt like it was taking a year to get there but you couldn't release the controls or the safety would bring it once more to a stop. Once the Warthog was finally in position, you opened the grip.

What if I'm wrong? you thought as it began to fall. I'll feel like such a fool if--

There was a saying that if you were close enough to an explosion, you would never actually hear it.

It was true.

end note:

If you want to, you know, imagine that Sarge's full name is, sayyyyyy, Avery Johnson, well then, who am I to tell you that you're right or wrong? 😇

If you don't know the Troop Transport Warthogs, here's one in action from Halo: Reach. It's on the level "ONI: Sword Base" and is scripted to be destroyed but there's a way to save it and the marines in it and take it with you for a great deal of the rest of the level! I love saving the Troop 'hog, even if it always still looks like it's on fire. Nah, it's fiiiiiine, no worries! 😎👍😂😉

#halo #halo the series #halo paramount+#master chief x reader #x reader #john-117 x reader #fic: 15 minutes #series: how to date a spartan without even trying #ageless aislynn #aislynn's fics #aislynn's fic

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eternity-death · 9 months ago

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Masterlist

Rambles

★彡 Sunday would kiss you in the backseat of a limousine

★彡 Post 2.0 thoughts (Yan Sunday)

★彡 Thought-Of-The-Day

Corporal Punishments (Yan Sunday/// DONT LOOK AT ME)

Sunday likes to leave traces of himself on you

Halo Radiations

Sunday doesn’t scare easily

★彡 Robin and Old Oti’s letters

★彡 Sunday is so beautiful

★彡 Do you think Sunday wears his wedding band over or under his glove

★彡 I wonder if Sunday’s piercing symbolizes anything

★彡 I think Sunday is in his 20’s

★彡 Sunday’s reaction to Robin’s death

★彡 Sunday’s hands are perpetually cold

★彡 Post 2.1 thoughts

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

★彡 Sunday probably wants you to join The Family

★彡 Sunday has OCD (canon)

★彡 Sunday is a nice teacher

Other

★彡 Sunday X Reader HC’s

★彡 Imagine: Being Robin’s personal assistant

★彡 Stuck

Part 1

★彡 Sunday Headcanon Countdown (Pre-Penacony release)

Day 5: PDA

Day 4: He can sing!

Day 3: Cult AU

Day 2: Possessive or protective?

Day 1: Living with him

★彡 Penacony Casts’ reactions to you spanking them

selfship stuff

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restlessmaknae · 1 year ago

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The tale of the young man whose voice was as beautiful as the moonlight, but whose voice could also kill.

➳ Characters: siren!Theo x princess!reader/you

➳ Genre: siren!au, curse!au, kingdom!au, fantasy, romance, angst

➳ Words: 4.4k

➳ Warning: mentions of blood, Theo killing people because he's a siren, major character death

➳ A/N: This story is part of my '5 words, 5 stories' series for which I wrote 5 totally different stories with 5 different band members featuring the same 5 words "I'm sorry, I love you". If you're interested in the other stories, check out this link! Otherwise, they can totally be read on their own. Dedicated to @dat-town ❤️

➳ Check out: my P1Harmony masterlist

➳ P1Harmony taglist: @dat-town, @tranquilpetrichor, @laaylaazyy, @americanokisses, @kuleo26, @hyu-won, @bamboongi, @syrxiee2, @wccycc, @littlestartonightsposts, @sunooslover, @chang-ryul

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Taeyang. Taeyang was living with his parents beside the sea, his father a fishman, his mother a cook. Taeyang often accompanied his father to catch fish, assisting whenever he could, but it was rare that he went out fishing on his own. However, once, his father got sick, so Taeyang went out in his place because the family relied heavily on the man’s work.

It was odd being on his own, and he wondered whether there would be a thunderstorm that day. Storms were unexpectedly harsh and common these past few weeks, hence fishing was more difficult than usually. On the other hand, his father couldn’t afford to go fishing further away because they were occupied by other fishermen, they had their own territory, but where they lived was untouched.

Taeyang had heard some kids talk behind his back whenever he walked home from the market, they whispered about odd instances of people going missing after being at the shore and men jumping to their death from the rocks surrounding the water. No wonder no one dared to come close, and his father could use it to his advantage. His father didn’t believe in these tales though, he said they were mere rumours, and that this place was definitely not cursed.

The boy believed him, and he wanted to believe him even though messy grey clouds were already gathering above his head, the first warning of a soon-to-arrive storm. Taeyang let out a sigh, then got started on it. He did how his father had taught him, but he struggled so much with a catch, he wondered if he should keep pulling the tackle, but then he remembered his mother’s hopeless eyes when his father had come down with a fever, and he kept pulling and pulling… Until he pulled a beautiful female body out of the water.

The tackle got stuck in her blouse, and blood oozed out from her side - where the boy had possibly managed to strike her. Taeyang could barely believe what he saw, he was merely gaping at the sight and trying to pacify the crazy beating of his heart. This couldn’t be real. Why was she in the water? Taeyang should have seen if anyone had been around because he had been there for more than an hour. She had to swim super fast to get to the shore from afar if he hadn’t managed to see her before. Or…

“You…” The woman mumbled, and despite her being pulled out from water, her clothes were actually untouched as if she had merely been walking on the shore, not swimming in the water. How could this be? His eyes might have been playing tricks on him since that was simply not possible. She should have been soaking wet. Instead, her hair was shining, surrounding her heart-shaped face like a halo. She was beautiful, too beautiful, as if she had not been from this world.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Taeyang justified, but he felt like his explanation was of no use. She was a full grown woman and he was just a mere kid.

“You stupid fisherboy, you brought this upon yourself,” the woman warned him, but before he could ask what she meant, she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and sunk her teeth into his wrists.

Taeyang didn’t feel anything at first. To be precise, what he felt wasn’t a bite. He felt as if a strong current was pulling him under, as if he was drowning, as if he was trying to reach the surface to breathe, but as soon as she pulled away, his breathing became ragged, his lungs were on fire, and all he could think about was jumping into the water to cool himself down. Maybe if he just went in there, if he was surrounded by the waves, it would be alright…

“Stupid humans and their greed…” Taeyang heard the woman say even though it seemed like she was far, far away from him. He felt lightheaded, legs wobbly, and his vision becoming blurry. Colourful dots danced in his vision, and the scenery around him became like a carousel from which he couldn’t get off.

“Now you can ponder over your mistake forever. You and your family should have just left this part of the sea behind a long time ago,” she continued furiously, but as the boy’s eyes zoomed in on her, he caught sight of fangs, and now he wasn’t sure what was going on. Was he dreaming? It felt so real though…

Then, his vision slowly lost colour, and he found himself falling to the ground, his human body not being able to bear the bite of the siren.

Taeyang thought of that incident as an odd one after all, and even though he was scolded by his parents for not catching anything that night, he insisted that he had been attacked, but the bite mark from the female didn’t show on his skin. Instead, a line was inked into his skin, and he couldn’t get it off no matter how much he tried to wash it off. It was a simple line, curving at the bottom. It was a drop of water, or a teardrop, depending on how you looked at it.

He didn’t give it too much thought, but whenever the boy wanted to walk to the market as he usually did in place of his parents, he couldn’t. He collapsed on the way or his feet didn’t move further, or he went there, but came back sick to the stomach. And it happened more and more often, so his parents kept him at home. After that, Taeyang spent a lot of time making drawings of the sea or helping out his mother in the kitchen or helping his father de-bone the fish. He made himself busy despite not leaving the house.

But then one day, he started singing out of boredom, and it changed everything. He wasn’t one to usually sing, but he felt this inner need in him to do so, and his parents also complimented his beautiful voice, so he continued on. He sang and sang, and he saw this adoring glint in his parents’ eyes as if they had been totally mesmerised by his voice, and that just made little Taeyang even happier. So he continued on, but soon enough, the glint in his parents’ eyes disappeared, and he saw horror in their orbs before they fell to the ground, their bodies numb.

Little Taeyang didn’t know it at the time, but as he grew older, he realised that the rumours were true and this shore was actually cursed. People went missing and men jumped to their death because this part of the sea was full of sirens. He met the beautiful woman whom he had injured later on, and she let him know that with her bite, he had become one of them. He couldn’t be away from water for long - a day at max -, his singing killed people even if his beauty was unmatched. Not to mention that he was now immortal, so the words of the woman - you can ponder over your mistake forever - made more sense.

“So you cursed me?” He inquired, still innocent, still just a child, barely 10.

“I didn’t curse you, boy. You did this to yourself. Your family didn’t listen to the warnings of the sea,” she explained eerily, and the boy had a feeling he knew what she meant. The constant storms, the sickness of his father, the fish being poisoned in the water… “I could have killed you, you know. Instead, I granted you immortality. You should be thankful. When you reach the age of 20, you will stay young forever,” she vocalised, her tone almost mischievous, and for a moment, Taeyang believed that what she was saying was of good intentions.

But then she smirked and her fangs showed, and he ran back to the house, scared of her, scared of the sea, and most important of all, scared of himself.

Taeyang had to realise that she was right. Afterwards, his sense of time was never the same. Whether days passed or decades, he couldn’t tell. His only thirst was for the sea and for singing, and since he had this gawking inner desire to always stay close to the water, he couldn’t even think of ending the curse by going far away, by purposefully keeping himself off, by purposefully ending his life. The thought had crossed his mind, multiple times actually. The thought always hit him after singing people to death, after not being able to say no to his other desire: singing.

The truth is, despite the folktales of sirens being only females and kissing men to death, sirens could be males and females, and they didn’t kill with a kiss, they killed with their voice. Whether it was a male or a female, someone young or old, if he had the urge, he would have to sing sooner or later. He didn’t do it on purpose to kill people, but sometimes he couldn’t avoid it. When he saw the same terror in his victims’ eyes that he had seen in his own parents’, he thought of dying, but he couldn’t do so. He couldn’t get away from the water because his siren needs were greater than his human emotions.

Consequently, Taeyang knew better than to form bonds with people. Even if he managed to save a child from drowning or get something out of the water for an elderly lady, he couldn’t allow himself to get attached. If someone was immortal, getting attached would make their endless lives even more miserable. And so he didn’t.

Not until you.

He knew who you were even before you said so yourself. The truth is, he still went into the town to mingle with people just for the sake of it, he still ate food humans made just because he could do so, not because he was hungry for it, and he was still up-to-date with the important people in the seaside kingdom just because it entertained him (partly when it was about the ruckus they caused) and it helped his forever ongoing thoughts settle a bit. It also made him feel like he was one of them: one of the mortals.

“Why don’t you care who I am?”

Your question made sense. To you, Taeyang seemed like a mere boy - probably living by the seaside - in his loose cotton pants and loose shirt, unafraid of sitting by the edge of the cliff, looking over at the crystal clear water beneath his feet as if it had been the most fascinating sight ever known to mankind. You couldn’t have known just who he was or what he was, and the fact that he had lived through hundreds of years already, so he couldn’t care whether he spoke to royalty or common people.

“Because I’ve seen too much to care,” he justified, and it was true, he had seen too much. Nonetheless, you might have thought of a very different reasoning behind his words.

“Well, you are the first person to say that,” you mumbled, looking down at your intertwined hands. “You can guess why I am here, but why are you here?” You inquired with a raised eyebrow after a heartbeat of silence as you turned your gaze towards him.

Taeyang could indeed guess: you were there to get away from your responsibilities, to escape being a princess for some time before you would have to go back to the palace, go back to your supposedly perfect and supposedly loving family and fake smiles all the time.

“This is where I feel the most at home,” he admitted bitterly. No matter how much he loathed the sea, he still felt like it was where he belonged. He knew very well that it was because of his siren self, but it was true nevertheless.

“I wish I could feel the same.”

“Why don’t you try? You can jump into the water and see for yourself,” he suggested casually, and the reaction he received was truly amusing. Your eyes widened to double their size, your mouth was agape for a few seconds before you exclaimed in a high-pitched voice:

“Are you crazy? This dress cost a fortune,” you said as you pointed at your midnight blue dress that probably had more layers than the shades of the water underneath the cliff.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Taeyang mentioned nonchalantly. He knew that to an extent he was a hypocrite because he didn’t try out a lot of things because he couldn’t do so anymore, but it should have been an encouragement. Or some sort of it.

You didn’t say anything at that time, but even that flash of bravery in your pitch-black eyes and hint of hesitation in your sweet voice were indicators that one day, you might be able to try it out, to break free.

Taeyang was surprised that you kept coming back time after time. Sometimes you came during daylight, but mostly during nighttime, having escaped from the palace for the night because the young guards who were there (Keeho and Intak) both let you because you were on good terms with them. The siren found it pretty amusing that a princess could sneak out at nights because she was getting on well with the guards, but well, maybe it was some sweet compensation for you with your difficult life and all of your daunting duties.

And you did try to jump into the water, and since Taeyang was here, nothing could happen to you. Humans didn’t see sirens when they were in the water, so you couldn’t see any sirens even if they might have been around, and since you were just swimming in that lagoon he liked frequenting, there was only a small chance that any siren would come around. What you had to be most afraid of was Taeyang himself, but he avoided this particular lagoon and this part of the seaside when he felt the urge to sing (and ultimately kill with that). He had to be cautious, and he knew that he would have felt ashamed to be around you after having just killed someone, so he went swimming somewhere else.

Nevertheless, most of the time nothing happened, and you probably thought that he was just a young man from around here who liked the sea and this particular lagoon, and who always seemed to be in a combination of a loose (sometimes low-cut) shirt and loose pants. Truthfully, he couldn’t be bothered to dress in a different way even if his clothes were untouched when in the water. At least it was an advantage of being a siren.

Most of the time nothing happened, and you two could just be there, laughing about stories you told or talking about something deep as you particularly liked pondering about existential questions, and you weren’t afraid to speak your mind either.

“You know, it does feel a little bit like a home now,” you admitted once, and Taeyang did feel a sense of pride swell in his chest. A princess who didn’t feel herself at home anywhere started feeling like at home around his home?

“Oh, really?” He quirked an eyebrow, a smile playing along the curves of his lips. He leaned forward as if teasing, as if testing if you were honest or just joking, but you didn’t take it lightly. You kept looking at him, looking into his deep, dark eyes, and Taeyang felt something in him twist as you gazed at him. He was convinced that he could only feel the urge for two things: to be near the sea and to let his voice out to sing, to kill people because he recharged his energy for his siren self from these activities.

On the other hand, now, looking at your wet hair sticking to your skin, your dress tight on your body because you had just come out of the water, your eyes shining like a child’s when watching something marvellous, Taeyang had the urge to do something else, something more humane.

“Really.” You bobbed your head, your smile still not fading. He couldn’t tell whether you didn’t feel the same way or you didn’t mind the close proximity, but Taeyang assumed that you were unbothered unlike him. At least, until you didn’t lean closer as well. “But it’s because you’re here. It feels like home because you’re here.”

It only took a few seconds before the fire was ignited in his heart, and he leaned forward to close the distance between you just when you did so, thus you met in the middle. The kiss tasted of salty seawater, words that died on the tip of his tongue, burning touches of each other’s tongue, and vulnerable, momentary sparkles of hope. Ever since becoming a siren, this was the moment he felt the most humane, and the desire he felt then couldn’t be compared to the desire to sing or to swim. It was something more, it was something completely different.

And it was over before he could realise, and you leaned back, biting on your lip like a nervous little girl having stolen something. Then, you looked up at him, and he looked back at you, and when you sat closer to snuggle up to his chest, it felt like the most natural thing to do. So he let you, and you kept talking until your mouth ran dry, and one thing really stuck with him.

“And you know, you’re pretty wise for your age,” you said jokingly, and even though Taeyang knew that it wasn’t completely true, he also knew that you made him think differently of his immortal life.

“Well, it does seem like in all this eternity of a life, you bring in something you. As if life slowed down a bit when you’re here,” he confessed truthfully, and when you looked up at him, he could see just how touched you were. You thanked him with a kiss instead of words, and Taeyang felt like he couldn’t get enough, enough of you.

He knew that he was playing a dangerous game - not just because of what he was, but because of who you were. You two were like the sun and the moon, you should have never overlapped each other’s territory, if you did, it should have been for the briefest of moments, but now, Taeyang didn’t know just when the fall would come. Despite how others described love, he didn’t feel like falling with you, he felt like flying with you - weightless, hovering somewhere in between reality and dreams and looking at the world around you from afar. As if you two were just two birds crossing the sky, and all the problems of the big bad world around you were minuscule.

Since he felt like this, he had a feeling that a fall would come - not even a fall, a crash. Falls were inevitable due to strong winds and external factors, but a crash was what was most painful and unexpected. You were a princess after all and he was a siren, you were mortal and he was immortal, you should have probably married someone of your rank and he should have never fallen in love with a human, but still… It felt so right being with you, it felt so humane, and no matter how much he would like to deny it, he missed this humane side of his. The heart palpitations whenever you were too close to him to let the opportunity go, the burning sensation that you left on his skin whenever you let go of him after holding his hand for sometime, the thrilled shivers going down his spine whenever he caught sight of you walking towards the lagoon, and that deep, deep feeling in his heart that you were there, with him, for him, and you cared.

And Taeyang, oh how much he thought that he was being careful, but maybe he was blinded by all those sun-tainted kisses, all the salty water flavours of you, all the shades your eyes took on whenever you were swimming in the sea under the midnight moonlight, all the layers you could show him affection and all the colours you brought into his life. And he be damned for not telling you about what he was sooner…

Because when you were sitting on the rocks together, your head resting in the crook of his neck, fingers intertwined in his lap, watched by the eerie moonlight, Taeyang could feel his siren self reaching into him, and slowly - like a tremor - spreading through his body. He wanted to quiet it down, he wanted to numb it, but it just kept coming on stronger and stronger, the waves pulling him under. It always started slow, but would come on soon, and he knew he needed to act fast.

“I… I have to go…” He said hastily, letting go of your hand, trying to push himself off the ground when you reached after his arm, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. His heart broke at the sight, but he had to go against what his heart wished for, what your heart wished for.

“Where are you going? What’s wrong?”

“You don’t understand. I can’t be around you. You should go,” he insisted, and damn you, why did you have such a strong grip? Why couldn’t you let him go?

“Then make me understand, Taeyang. You can’t just leave like…” You left the sentence hanging in the air as the boy yanked your hand away. He knew that the sea wasn’t far away, but his siren self was resurfacing soon, and he didn’t know if he had enough time, especially with you still in his footsteps.

“Run, please, go… I don’t want to hurt you,” he pleaded as he gave you one last glance before jumping from the rock to another, feet moving as fast as he could. He didn’t even look where he was going or if you were still there, he just concentrated on getting to the edge of the cliff, so he could jump from it. With him in the water, you wouldn’t hear him sing, and that’s exactly what he wanted.

But he faltered and fell, his feet slipping between two rocks, and he yelped - what exactly he shouldn’t have because you turned back hearing his cry and asked if he was okay. You shouldn’t have… you should have gone further, and he should have already been in the water, but there he was, face bruised from falling onto the uneven rocks, ankle hurting where it came in contact with the cold hard surface, and he felt it coming, he felt it nearing… It was too late, he was too late…

He gathered all the strength he had left though, and pushed himself off the ground, but his siren self was stronger, and with you getting closer to him again, he couldn’t keep it in. He opened his mouth and started singing. Afterwards, it was like a battle between his human and siren selves, the song a plea, a cry, a warning, but all he could see was wonder in your eyes - the same kind of wonder he had seen in his parents’ eyes before he had killed them.

He just kept on going, but his human self was strong and wanted to leave, wanted to escape, his feet moving on their own, but you were already under his spell, and soon enough, your eyes widened, awe replaced by terror, and soon, your body bent like a flower in the wind, and you feel to the rocks. His human side knew he couldn’t do anything more for you, but he still jumped towards you to be able to catch you in time.

When he did so, he laid you in his lap, and despite the previous times he held you like this, he felt no warmth, no thrill now. Your body was fragile, it seemed weightless - given up on fighting the power his voice held. His voice that called your name sweetly, teasingly, lovingly so many times… now it was turning you sick, turning you…

When the song came to an end, your lips curled upwards for the briefest moment as you whispered:

“I knew it. You have the most beautiful voice, my siren,” you half-said, half-coughed through your last breaths, and Taeyang held you tighter as if it could avoid or prolong the moment he had to let go of your body that had started to go cold. Why did he have to have such a special ability if he couldn’t save anyone, let alone the one who saved him? Why did he have to bear the weight of his loved ones falling to their death because of him? Was it really his sin to carry?

“I’m sorry…” He cried out, his voice raspy and pleading and bleeding. Nothing like the beautiful singer, he felt like his voice was the ugliest now, the rawest, the most sorrowful as the words rolled off his tongue. “I love you,” he confessed through tears, and your eyelashes flattered as if you had heard him, but then, you closed your eyes for one last time.

All the colours of his surroundings, all the light from the moonlight, all the beckoning whispers from the sea seemed to fade away, seemed to numb into darkness. There was nothing else, just the last image of your loving eyes burned into his brain, the last warmth coming from your body as you still held onto him despite the song of death reaching your ears, and despite the fact that he had all the time in the world, an eternity left of his damn immortal life, it felt like nothing, it felt useless without you in it.

The world seemed soundless for the first time.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading the fic despite its tragic ending! I can't say that I didn't feel bad for killing off a character, but I feel like such an AU called for such an ending (but I know I've also written a siren AU before where they lived happily ever after...).

Anyways, the Harmony: All In concept photos definitely did inspire me to write a siren!Theo fic (hence the header), though I have to admit this was supposed to be a Golcha Y fic at first. Nevertheless, I think the whole plot fits Theo more, so I hope you don't mind that I've changed it from a Golcha fic to a P1Harmony one.

As always, you can let me know what you thought through asks/DMs/reblogs. ❤️

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for P1Harmony or for other bands/artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #p1harmony x reader #p1harmony x you #theo imagines #theo scenarios #theo x reader #theo x you #choi taeyang scenarios #choi taeyang imagines #choi taeyang x reader #choi taeyang x you #taeyang scenarios #taeyang imagines #taeyang x reader #taeyang x you

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tookerthetookiest · 2 years ago

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Diluc x Reader

SAGAU - Self Aware Genshin AU (kinda??)

You were casually doing your daily's in Genshin Impact, but a weird quest you had never seen before appeared as your last one. It was near the gate area next to the Angel Share's Tavern. 'Weird, I don't remember ever seeing this commission before' you thought to yourself, but proceeded to do it anyway. When you teleported your way over to the area, not a single NPC was there, not even an enemy. Your PC/Mobile/Game Console was starting to run the game poorly so maybe that's why.

Finally an option came up to accept the quest from an NPC, but before said NPC could load in, if there even was one to begin with, you already clicked to accept it. Your screen turned black and you leaned in to get a closer look. Only to be sucked into your screen. Faint images flashed before your eyes, memories perhaps? Whatever they were, they stopped in an instant leaving you to drift off into a slumber.

Now onto Diluc, the owner of the Angel Share's Tavern and the largest wine industry in teyvat. Who also happened to live the life of a vigilante, moving in the shadows at night, protecting mondstat's citizens.

His nightly patrol was moving along splendidly, until he came across a figure cloaked in white, laying on the floor of the gate near to his tavern. Approaching with caution, he crept up to the figure. Upon closer inspection, it was a person, though a tall person. Like extremely tall. Near to them was a crown of sorts, more in the form of a halo.

He couldn't just leave them like this, it may pose as a threat in the future, who knows. Mustering all the strength he could, Diluc lifted the person and dragged them back to his mansion. The halo- crown came following after which rose his suspicions, who could this person be?

After a long journey, which would've been much easier if it weren't for your height, Diluc put you in a spare bedroom and chained your right hand to the bed so you won't escape if you were a threat.

You slept well into the afternoon that day, under the supervision of Diluc. The chains clinked, alerting diluc. He watched you with caution as you rose from your position while rubbing your eyes. "Who are you?" Diluc asked, alerting you as you were unaware he was there. "I..." Though you barely spoke a word, your voice already sounded calm and gentle, easing Diluc's nerves but he didn't let his guard down. "I am the creator of this land" you answered almost as if you don't know. In truth you actually didn't, you were doing dailys like 5 mins ago, now you're here.

"Creator? How am I supposed to believe them?" Diluc thought. "I don't really know how to get you to believe me honestly." You answered his thoughts. "How did you do that!?" Diluc said shocked. "Do what? I just heard what you said" you got a good look at him after you said that, he resembles Diluc but there's no way that could be possible.... Right?? "But I thought it I didn't say it" "Oh, weeelll does that prove I'm the creator??" He sighed, "Listen, until I get more proof that you are the 'creator' you're going to stay in this room." As he said that the shackles holding you simply fell off after you touched it while examining it. "Look! More proof!" You exclaimed. "Just.... Don't leave the room then i guess." He began to walk out the room until you spoke up "Wait, what's your name?" "Diluc Ragnvindr" With that he left, trusting you would stay.

Diluc????? FROM THE HIT GAME GENSHIN IMPACT???? Were you in Genshin??? How is that even possible? You sat there with your thoughts wondering how this happened. You began to realize it was all because of that quest you accepted but still, how? You began recalling the memories, you remember creating teyvat and everything on it, including the archons and the magic in this world. But you never did those, or maybe you did. Is this a dream or was the life you had before a dream? You continued to ponder late into the night, so late that you got to see Diluc walk home. You found comfort in knowing there are recognizable faces and people you could trust. Diluc made his way to your room to ensure you were still there and to his surprise you were.

He slowly began to trust you more as the days went by, talking to you whenever he had the time to, he found that to be the best part of his day. Though telling him that he was in a video game seemed like something you shouldn't do, it felt as though a balance would tip if you did. Soon you were given permission to explore the surrounding forrest though not to far so you wouldn't get lost. Everytime Diluc was away you would explore, none of the animals feared you and you even found out you could talk to them. One day you were playing around with your animal friends and lost track of time, huddling up together with them and falling asleep. Diluc searched the whole area for you when he didn't find you waiting for him like usual. When he found you he was so relieved but a bit concerned when he saw the wolves around you napping.

You enjoyed your time with the animals, but one day as you play with boars, you wandered closer and closer to springvale. Unknown to you, that was the day hunters came out to look for boars. Peacefully you ran about with the creatures you called friends when a screech of pain took you out of your leisurely trance. You hurried over to the boar that got caught in a trap, quickly releasing it with your strength. "I heard something get caught over there!" You heard in the distance. Healing the boar of its injuries you stood up searching to see where the shout came from. All the boars began telling you 'run! run! ' and so you did. You ran but the sounds of some boars getting shot down stopped you, you hide behind a tree and watched as the injured boars got tied up to be carried away. In ones final moments it told you to get away quick, though you have the power to help, you know better than to disrupt the natural way of life. So you ran again, but a hunter saw you some of them shouted 'look catch it!' but they couldn't catch up to you, your height gave you a big advantage. You ran all the way back to the winery, holding back tears for the loss of your friends.

Diluc came back ready to talk to you, his day was tiring and he desperately needed to hear your voice. Though his own stress disappeared when he heard your sobs. He had never seen you cry, you were always so calm and happy. He rushed over to you holding onto your arms "what happened!? What's wrong!?" "H-hunters killed my fr-friends" you cried. " Who were they. " He asked with rage, though he himself didn't know those creatures the sight of you this way filled him with rage. "Diluc please, i-it was just the way things must be, if i intervened it w-would not help anything. " He cooled down and just sat with you. You lost family before in the other world, this seemed to feel like the same thing." I know the feeling of loss... " Diluc began to tell you about his father and brother. You already knew though, so you kinda just sat there. You heard his lore so many times before at this point hearing someone say it back left you unfazed, but coming from him with the look of distraught on his face, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

The next day Diluc went to the tavern, the night went on as usual until some hunters came in talking about a figure dressed in white. He became suspicious and listened in on their conversation. "It was huge! Atleast 8ft tall!" The surrounding hunters gasped and asked for more information." It was in full white clothes! It looked so majestic!!" " Maybe it was hunting our boars, alot have gone missing recently. " Another hunter suggested." You may be right, we should capture it to make sure it isn't a threat. " Diluc was shocked, he wanted to argue with them, but that would cause a scene. He didn't want to put you in more danger, so he kept to himself.

He went straight to you that night, "You're no longer allowed to leave the winery" he said assertively. "And why not?" "Can't you read minds?" "Ugh, so what if hunters are after me, I can protect myself!" you defended. "I just don't want you getting hurt!" He retorted. That was the first time you fought. He got to annoyed of the arguing and simply got up and left. Leaving you pissed, maybe you should just leave, prove that you can indeed protect yourself.

The morning after, Diluc didn't even bother going into your room, not wanting to see you both argue again. Though if he did, he wouldn't have found you. You had left to go explore the wilderness, though trouble found you quicker than expected. Treasure horders, they were surrounding you "Hey aren't some hunters from springvale looking for a creature like that." One asked "Yup, and im sure they'll pay a hefty price for it, we'll probably make more money off of that thing than those boars." They moved closer to you, readying their weapons. You thought of a plans to escape, watching as one rushed forward. Blowing a gust of anemo his way, you took it as your chance to run. Before you could make it far, a treasure horder threw a bottle infused with pyro at your feet. With not enough time to react, you stepped in it, falling to the ground in the process. Healing the burn with hydro, you rose a wall of geo to protect yourself for a short time. One began pounding away at the wall with a hammer and almost got through.

You fought well into the afternoon, no matter now many of them you got rid of they just kept coming. You were growing tired, only putting up a sheild to protect yourself as you wait for someone to help you. Diluc finally decided enough was enough, he had to talk with you and atleast negotiate something. "Y/N, listen-" he opened the door to your room, quickly noticing you weren't there. "Y/N!" Shouting frantically as he searched around for you. Finally he realized you left, he wanted to believe you were safe, but he just had to find you. It was to late to get someone to help him, so he had to look for you alone. He ran through the forrest searching for any signs of you, even if just a strand of hair.

He almost gave up until he heard the sounds of treasure horders fighting something in the distance. Creeping up towards them, noticing they were surrounding something. The more he looked, he noticed a white robe and the halo- crown you wore. He finally found you! But not in the way he hoped, you looked worn out so he had to act fast. You were about to let your sheild down for your energy was just to low until a flame emerged from behind the treasure horders. While they were distracted you summoned a gust of wind to send them flying into the air, then escaping behind some bushes. You noticed a familiar mop of red hair, rushing through the treasure horders. Regaining some of your strength you ran towards him. He came looking for you and how glad were you that he did.

The treasure horders began to seem less and less but instead of fighting them to the very end, Diluc decided to take you and run back to the winery. "Y/N let's go!" He shouted to you, dashing into nearby bushes with you casting a wall of geo to block your escape. You both ran until you got the the winery, panting and gasping as you slowed down to catch your breath. "Are you ok?" Both of you asked at the same time, a small laugh erupting from you both. "I'm fine, I'm more worried about you though" Diluc said. "Don't worry, I'll be fine" Standing there, looking at eachother with fondness for one another. Diluc walked up to you and hugged you, sinking into your larger frame. You we're so comforting, so warm, he could surely get used to this feeling.

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Finally my first fanfic of the year (even if it's pretty late). Its not really my favorite, there's alot that I just realized I could change, though I've been busy and I'm still very busy so I doubt I'll have time to fix it 😞.

Anyways, I'm open for requests! Send me any character along with what you want in your fanfic!

Have a good morning, evening or night! 🌃☀️🌅

#genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc x reader #gi diluc #genshin diluc #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc sagau #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff

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elvendoodles · 1 year ago

Note

Is there an archive of any fanfics for Elves that you have made?

You know what, that's a good idea. Here you go dear anon:

TUMBLR

imagine-elvendale prompts [x][x][x][x][x] The Azure Sky [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10] Fear [1][2] (Cronan x Reader) Please (Tidus x Reader) Mistletoe (Elf!Reader x The Elves + Emily (Platonic)) Sunlight (Another Kind of Magic Rewrite) Irritating (Rosalyn Introspection)

WATTPAD

When Love Gives Way To Endless Night My Elvendale Adventure (Cronan x Reader) An Icy Heart (Cronan x Reader) Lego Elves Role Swap AU: Unite The Magic (heavy canon divergence) An Unexpected Love (Farran x Emily) SECRETS OF ELVENDALE II Elvenworlds: Book 1 Crossover (LEGO Friends Crossover)

AO3

He Can't Be That Bad, Right? (Voltron Crossover) Finding Farran Wet Earth Rumour Has It... Dizzy Determined The Azure Sky (AO3 Version) To Save a Sister Secrets of Elvendale 2 (AO3 Version) A Walk Down ELvendale's Memory Lane Recovery Pay The Dues Come On Over Only In Memories Hungry Shadows Safe and Sound An Ordinary Hairbrush Bakery Morning What Now? Glade I'm Sorry All That Matters Lego Elves: Prompts Hold It For Your Halo Aftermath Potion Lessons Getting Caught On Your Landslide Vines (Modern + Human AU) Your Lovely Orbiting (A World Away) The Earth Needs Water To Grow Stormshade Drabble Collection Goldberry Nutbread A Glass of Water (Cause You're So Thirsty) Nothing Better

FANFICTION.NET

An Overdue Apology

This isn't //everything// out there. I curated fics that I personally believe are of quality and substance in some way (grammar, length, coherence, etc...). If I end up finding more of the lost imagine-elvendale fics I'll add them to the list. I've done my best to leave out the smuttier fics, y'all can seek those out on your own if you so wish.

#lego elves #secrets of elvendale #fic archive #fanfic masterlist #i had to dig into my main in order to get the imagine-elvendale fics #and i know there's more that are missing #but tumblr search is not my friend #shoutout to of-elves-and-mad-hatters #rereading their fic keeps me alive

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spnfanficpond · 1 year ago

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New Member Spotlight - June/July 2023

The Pond is always growing and we want to make our new members feel welcome! Here’s a list of recent additions to our fishy family, along with a little info about them!

Turtles

@lacilou -

Other fandoms? - Walker

Looking for in the Pond? - More Sam Winchester stories

Something to signal boost? - I have a TikTok! lulu_dances_with_moose

Pairings you read? - Sam Winchester x Reader

Genres you read? - All

Favorite writer(s)? - @uncouth-the-fifth @thinkinghardhardlythinking @deanwinchesterswitch

@sandwitch-of-solidarity -

Other SM names? - Discord: bean119

OTP? - Destiel, Samwena

Other fandoms? - Hannibal, Good Omens, OFMD

Looking for in the Pond? - Good fic recs!

Pairings you read? - Destiel, Samwena

Genres you read? - All, especially long fics

Favorite writer(s)? - @sobsicles, but it changes every week

@perpetualabsurdity -

Looking for in the Pond? - More Jensen/Dean content 😊

Pairings you read? - Jensen/reader, Jensen/OFC, Dean/reader, Dean/OFC

Genres you read? - Smut, mostly, but really all

Favorite writer(s)? - @luci-in-trenchcoats, @smol-and-grumpy, @supernatural-jackles

@fuiabarcelos -

Other SM names? - Discord: Fuiabarcelos, TikTok: princess_of.hell

OTP? - Destiel

Other fandoms? - Yes! I really like Julie and the phantoms and Taylor Swift.

Looking for in the Pond? - After the show ended I felt that the brazilian fanfic writers (I'm from brazil) disappeared a little, that's when I met Tumblr and AO3. I usually write fanfics in portuguese, but I'm still learning english and I thought that Pond would be a great place to improve it and, more importantly, make writer friends.

Something to signal boost? - In my wattpad profile, there are many stories of the Supernatural (all in Portuguese), but I'll leave here the link to my favorite. I know there probably won't be anyone who understands Portuguese, but google chrome has an option to translate it, in case anyone is interested. Warrior. For fans of Taylor Swift, I made some Sam's wallpapers inspired by her albums.

Pairings you read? - Mostly reader inserts.

Genres you read? - I usually read smut, fuff, Angst. My favorites are Fluff and Angst. I also like Soulmates Au, stories where the reader is some magical being and, my favorite of all, stories inspired by songs.

Favorite writer(s)? - @thinkinghardhardlythinking @princessmisery666 @queen-of-deans-booty @impala-dreamer @holylulusworld and many more!

Guppies, Jellies, and Mutuals, oh, my!

@ladynightskye -

Other SM names? - Discord: LadyKnightSkye

OTP? - Multishipper with a preference for Dean/Lucifer & Lucifer/Castiel

Other fandoms? - Multiple, but Halo, Far Cry 5, and Fire Emblem currently

Looking for in the Pond? - Kinda just wanna hang out.

Something to signal boost? - Apple Pie and the Apocalypse

Pairings you read? - Most pairings including Lucifer or Dean

Genres you read? - Au, mostly, and smut.

What do you like to write? - Alternate universes are my jam. I admittedly like taking these characters and putting them into fantasy Situations. Also lately I’ve been very into genderbending Dean.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Fleur de feu

PurpleEdge (AO3 only) -

Other SM names? - Discord: PurpleEdge

Looking for in the Pond? - I would like to discuss writing stuff and SPN stuff with other fans/writers.

Pairings you read? - I'm not into romantic shipping, but I love the Winchesters family dynamics - Sam & Dean, and John & the boys.

Genres you read? - Mostly Discipline fics, whump, and angst, but I'll read whatever's good.

Favorite writer(s)? - ReaperTownUSA on AO3

What do you like to write? - Discipline fics, slavery tropes, angst, gen, family dynamics, family fluff. I've posted one smut fic, but I'm not sure if I'll do more.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - No Rest

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - Currently I think I've tried at least once all the tropes/genres that I like. There may be things out there that I'm not aware of, and I hope that being in this community will help me discover them.

@ani-coolgirl -

Other SM names? - Discord: aniciel, AO3: ani_coolgirl

OTP? - Wincest

Looking for in the Pond? - I would just like to expand my readership and makes some friends to share ideas with.

Something to signal boost? - I'm currently working on writing a wincest fic for every episode of the show. I recently started season 5:I'm currently working on writing a wincest fic for every episode of the show. I recently started season 5: Every First Time on AO3.

Pairings you read? - Wincest

Genres you read? - Smut and angst (but I prefer a happy ending), but I enjoy me a good fluffy fic.

Favorite writer(s)? - @zmediaoutlet

What do you like to write? - Angst, plotty drama I'll never finish, smut

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Cuckoos in Glass Houses

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I'm too nervous to post chapter fics because I have problems with follow through. I have epics in my brain that have yet to see the light of day because I never get past chapter 2!

@foxyjwls007 -

Other SM names? - It's the same for FB and IG

Looking for in the Pond? - To be a better writer and get help putting my work out for people to read.

Pairings you read? - Dean, Sam, Cas reader inserts

Genres you read? - All

Favorite writer(s)? - @lucidlivi, @zepskies, @spnexploration, @littlefreya, @sillyrabbit81, and many more

What do you like to write? - Fluff, smut, some angst, ofc, au

Masterlist? - I have no masterlist. Have only posted one work so far.

Most underappreciated fic? - Veggie Tale

@dawn-petrichor-world -

Other SM names? - Discord: Dawn-petrichor-world

OTP? - Destiel

Other fandoms? - I'm multi fandom, Pedro Pascal characters, marvel, Tolkien and more

Pairings you read? - Dean, Crowley, Castiel, & Sam reader inserts

Genres you read? - All

Favorite writer(s)? - @holylulusworld

What do you like to write? - Mostly angst and smut

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - The Story of my Life (series)

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I have a lot I haven't written yet and I'd love to write. Because I'm feeling stupid an idiot and not good. I think and hope join a group could boost or help me to write. I still don't know how.

@gloriousmooseman -

Other SM names? - Discord: taylorbeans

OTP? - Wincest

Other fandoms? - Doctor Who/Torchwood, Marvel, HP, some rpf

Looking for in the Pond? - Just to meet like minded people and make new friends!

Pairings you read? - Wincest, Drarry (HP)

Genres you read? - I love a bit of domestic fluff.

Favorite writer(s)? - @astolat is a classic!

What do you like to write? - Wincest

Masterlist!

@rominaszh -

Other SM names? - Discord: rominaszd.dis

OTP? - Destiel alongside many many others

Other fandoms? - Yes, a lot.

Looking for in the Pond? - Just to enjoy the fandom.

Pairings you read? - Destiel mostly, but anything Jensen Ackles related as well

Genres you read? - All

Favorite writer(s)? - I'm in love with everything I read, everyone is so talented!

What do you like to write? - I write mostly angst but fluff and humor is my favorite.

Masterlist!

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I have never written any Destiel fics because I don't feel confident enough to write them accurately and in a way that they deserve, but someday I would love to.

@limeskye -

Other SM names? - Discord: limeskye Other: psmalcolmbright

OTP? - Destiel

Other fandoms? - Prodigal Son

Looking for in the Pond? - To share the SPN love!

Pairings you read? - Destiel mostly, but also other slash pairings on occasion.

Genres you read? - Depends on my mood.

Favorite writer(s)? - @felisblanco

Masterlist? - I've only ever ficced for Prodigal Son before as have always felt the spn fandom is flooded with so many great writers. But who knows what the future holds. I've gifted for other stuff, mostly Prodigal Son and whump stuff.

That's all for this month, folks! (If we're missing anyone, let us know and we'll add them to next month's list!) Make sure to say hi to the newbies and make them feel welcome! Thanks to all from @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @princessmisery666, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @katbratsupernaturalwhore and @heavenssexiestangel!

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